


Tears of Despair and Joy

by Ladyanaconda



Category: Book of Life (2014)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, Gen, Other, Widowed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-11 05:55:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 65,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3316682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyanaconda/pseuds/Ladyanaconda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xibalba not only lost his wife, but now he's alone with a newborn baby girl which part of him blames for her mother's fate; however, spending a few moments with his child can change everything. Post-movie AU one-shots featuring Xibalba and his daughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tears of Despair and Joy

Tears of Despair and Joy.

Drop. Drop. Drop.

The echo of drops falling on the ground was the only sound in the Land of the Forgotten. There was no other sound, other than the sound of sobbing. Who was sobbing, one would ask? For once it was not any of the lost, forgotten souls that inhabited the dark realm, nor the specters that served the ruler of that place. No.

It was coming from the very ruler of that realm.

Xibalba had never been the type to cry, but this was way too much for him to bear. He felt like he was suffocating, and his heart cracking into tiny fragments that would probably never be fixed again. His eyes stung with uncharacteristic tears of pure sorrow and grief, his large black wings drooped on the ground. His serpentine companion was wrapped around his arm, hissing softly and rubbing its two heads against its master's arm, trying in vain to comfort him.

As he kneeled in front of the body of his dearly-departed wife, his whole heart cracked even more with the contrastingly colorful surroundings. He decorated the room like she would have liked, adorned with marigolds, candles and all types of flowers. The walls were painted a soft red, with golden outlines, that drew figures such as hearts and sugar skulls. La Muerte's body lay peacefully on top of a pedestal, as if she were asleep; how he wished that was the case.

Her hands were resting on her chest, her dark blue eyelids were closed, and she had a small smile on her scarlet lips; he couldn't understand how she could have smiled if had known she would pass away. She wore a beautiful white gown similar to her own dress, adorned with even more marigolds at the edges of her collar, sleeves and skirt; her long, black flowing hair had been decorated with flowers such as sunflowers, lilies and daisies. Even in death, her beauty was astounding.

Oh, how cruelly ironic; they were gods of the dead, yet death itself turned on its mistress and took her from him. Xibalba's hands squeezed his wife's cold hand as he tried to prevent more tears from coming out of him, even though it seemed it was impossible for the moment. Her warmth was long gone, and so every time he touched her he felt like he was touching eyes, even with his gloves on. How did this happen? What had gone wrong? It was supposed to be the happiest day in both their lives, the birth of their daughter.

_"What's going on?"_

_"She's losing too much blood! We're losing her!"_

_"Let me in!"_

_"Hang on, milady!"_

_"LA MUERTE!"_

Xibalba stiffened upon remembering that night. He had stormed into the room to find his wife's life ebbing away and his newly-born daughter giving her birthing cry. She managed to hold his hand one more time, and give him a goodbye kiss. He pleaded her, begged her not to go, but she could do nothing about it, for death was too powerful even for her.

Still, despite her child having cause her death, La Muerte showed no ill-aimed emotions at her in her last moments; all the contrary, she had wanted to see her baby at least once, she kissed her daughter's forehead for the first and only time, soothing the child into slumber. Her last words had been 'her name is Marigold', then she was gone.

Everything after that was a blur. He remembered screaming to the heavens in anguish and grief, startling the child out of her nap. He recalled holding La Muerte's body in his arms, as close to him as he could like it would bring her back to him. He remembered sending, in a sorrowful rage, all the spirits scrambling out of the room, including Carmen Sánchez, who held his newborn child. He even remembered the cruel words he uttered at the baby without the latter even knowing it.

 _'She's no daughter of mine_ '.

Xibalba didn't know what he was thinking on speaking those words. Sure, he had been grief-stricken and angry, but that was no excuse for rejecting an innocent baby, as Carmen put it. Sure, he lost a wife, but the child lost a mother; there was no way he could ever compare it. Xibalba himself wanted to believe this, with all his might he tried not to show any resentment at Marigold for taking her mother's life, he knew deep inside that she hadn't meant to do so. But another part of him, the one that was still grieving and angry, blamed her for La Muerte's fate.

If La Muerte had heard those words coming from him, she would have been furious at him. Nay, she would have hated him, and he couldn't even stand the thought of his darling wife despising him. But at the same time, how could he love the one that killed his wife? That's what the other part of him repeated incessantly, no matter what he did to try to silence it. Two weeks had passed since, but to him it would always feel like yesterday.

His love, his amor, his corazón, his angel, was gone, this time forever. He would never hear her laughter, nor her heavenly voice as she sang. He would never feel her warm touch on his beard with her gentle hands. He would never hold her in his arms, nor taste her lips in a kiss, nor run his hands through her beautiful hair again.

The Land of the Remembered had cried for the loss; all the fiestas and celebrations ceased as the spirits cried and wept for the loss of their Queen. For the first time in eons, the Land of the Remembered turned into a place of sorrow. According to the Ancient Rules, the realm was his now that La Muerte had unfortunately passed away because he was her husband, but he wasn't happy. Were the circumstances different, he would have even jumped of joy, but now he wanted nothing to do with that land. What was the case, if La Muerte would not be by his side? Every single corner of the Land of the Remembered reminded him of her, made his heart break even more than it was.

Unable to bear the painful memories any longer, Xibalba finally stood up and stroked La Muerte's cheek with longing and sadness, before bowing down and planting a kiss on her forehead. Luckily, a god's body never rotted away like mortal bodies, and so he would keep her there with no problem at all. The spirits of the Remembered had wanted to make a monument to their Queen and place her body there, but he rejected the idea; he would not let anyone take his wife away from him once more. So he brought her over to his realm of darkness and despair, and used one of the many spare rooms in his castle to make a sanctuary for her, the place in which he was right now.

"See you later, _mi amor._ " Xibalba whispered in a raspy voice from all the sobbing, before reluctantly turning away and gliding out of the room, his hands behind his back.

His servants avoided him, knowing he wanted to be alone and would show no mercy to anyone who dared disturb him in this state, as the Candlemaker learned the bad way when he tried to comfort the dark god. Xibalba had lashed out in anger and threw sharp feathers from his wings at him.

He didn't understand his pain.

No one did.

* * *

 

The dark crib was a few steps away from his bed. Because of this, Xibalba avoided going into his chambers for the past two weeks after Marigold's birth, instead spending the nights alone in his living room or the throne room, sleeping on the couch or his throne, remembering La Muerte, leaving the care of his daughter to his servants. Xibalba would often try to escape form reality by indulging in his wine to temporally soothe the pain in his broken heart, but it would always return tenfold when he returned from his drunken state. However, his back was starting to ache from sleeping on hard stone, and begged him to go to bed.

As soon as he stepped into his personal chambers, Xibalba locked the door.

For the past two weeks, Xibalba hadn't been able to even look at her, but he couldn't regret her existence either. It would mean that La Muerte's sacrifice had been in vain.

He had aimed for his bed as soon as he stepped in and didn't even look at the crib, but his curiosity of Marigold's looks was winning. He had not seen how she looked like, if she looked more like her mother or him, and he wanted to know. Gathering up his courage, Xibalba approached the crib and took a look at his daughter, his hand resting on the edge of the cradle.

Marigold was all bundled up in blankets to keep her warm; she was identical to La Muerte in nearly every aspect, which suddenly made looking at her even more painful for Xibalba. Her skin was made of white sugar, her hair consisted of curls of black on top of her head, and she had golden markings on her chubby cheeks. From what Carmen told him, Marigold inherited his wings and his eyes but he had yet to see them.

Xibalba hesitated, but after a while he managed to touch his baby's cheek with his claw-like fingers. This made her open her eyes slightly and look up at him questioningly; it was then that Xibalba certified that Marigold had his eyes, red pupils with a green glow.

Xibalba couldn't bear looking at her for too long, it brought him too many painful memories. However, as he was about to remove his hand and step away from the crib, something stopped him. Marigold's tiny fingers had wrapped around his index finger, as if she was asking him to stay. The dark god tried to release his finger from her grasp, but as he did so, the baby was seemingly startled by the tension and started to cry.

Xibalba panicked; he hadn't meant to make her cry. He could just call one of his servants and tell him to soothe her down, but something inside him was stirring when he heard his daughter cry. Reluctantly, he bent down and took her in his arms, holding her close to him. He bounced her a little to try and soothe her, but it was not working; Xibalba struggled to keep Marigold in his arms when she started wriggling in her covers, her wings trying to free themselves from their 'jail'.

Maybe if he spoke to her she would calm down.

"Shhhh…" He cooed, wiping the tiny tears on the corners of his daughter's eyes with his fingers carefully. "Sh-sh-sh. _Ya, ya, ya_. Don't worry, _pequeña_. Papi's got you now."

Marigold sobbed a little bit, but her crying diminished, thankfully, and she started settling down. At least it was a good start. He wondered if she recognized his voice form when he'd speak to her when she was in La Muerte's womb.

"I know I haven't seen you these last days, but I want you to know that I'm here." Xibalba continued speaking as he brushed a lock of black hair from Marigold's face and tickle her nose with his finger, making her gurgle adorable. Despite the tension, Xibalba couldn't help but chuckle silently. "There. Are you feeling better, _pequeña?_ "

Marigold was still sobbing, so there had to be something he was overlooking. He was not precisely the parental type, he was still new in all this stuff, after all. He did know that babies cried if they were either hungry, stressed, or had a dirty diaper. Xibalba was hoping it was the first option, because he didn't know how to change diapers; he hadn't really paid attention when La Muerte was explaining him how to during the first trimester of her pregnancy.

With a snap of his fingers, Xibalba appeared a baby bottle filled with warm horchata out of thin air. He lowered it close to Marigold´s lips, and she immediately latched on it, suckling her meal eagerly. Xibalba sighed in relief and glided to his ebony rocking chair, for those days when he wanted to relax; he took seat and watched as his daughter continued with her meal. Marigold seemed content enough for the moment, for which he was grateful, but something else was starting to stir within him. He couldn't explain what, only that he wanted to hold his little one close to him at all times, and protect her from any harm that may come upon her. Now that he thought of it, the voice within him that resented the child had been silent for a while now.

It was a while before Marigold moved her head away from the bottle, but then she started whimpering one more time, and she tilted her head side from side awkwardly.

Oh, no. Did he do something wrong? Xibalba quickly put the bottle aside and bounced her a bit, hoping it would calm her down. When that didn't work, he tried patting her back firmly yet softly to see if she needed to burp.

After a few minutes, she let out a great burp…

…But Xibalba couldn't have predicted that part of her meal would come out with it. He quickly held her away from his body just as she vomited a milky liquid, but he couldn't do anything as great part of it spilled unto his cloak.

" _Maldita sea_!" Xibalba snapped, staring down at the mess of his cloak; he had sent it to the laundry last week, for goodness sake! Then he frowned at his daughter. "That was uncalled for, _jovencita!_ "

But his annoyance vanished when Marigold giggled innocently, her lips wet with the milky vomit, and held out her little arms for him. Xibalba sighed and once more held his child close in an embrace.

"Oh, well. I can't stay mad at you for long, can I?" he chuckled grimly, playing with her fingers. Xibalba started swaying his rocking chair with his wings softly.

"You know, you look a bit like your _mami_." He whispered softly, his skull pupils set on Marigold's wriggling little body. "You're like a smaller, chubbier, baldy version of your _mami_. It's a pity you didn't get to know her, _pequeña_ , you would have adored her as much as I did. I still do, actually." His voice started shaking and his eyes were tearing up. "It's been very hard for _papi_. Getting used to the idea that he will never be able to kiss her, to embrace her, it's completely unbearable." Xibalba couldn't do anything as his eyes stung with tears once more. "I just loved your _mami_ so much. She was the sun to my world"

Something caught his attention. Something was pulling on his beard. Looking down, he realized Marigold was fidgeting with his beard curiously, gurgling as her little fingers entangled with the white hairs.

Just like la Muerte used to do.

That very moment, every single root of resentment Xibalba held for the little one for taking her mother's life withered away, instead blossoming into fatherly love, adoration for this little thing, this miracle of life, this memento of his beloved wife.

Smiling genuinely for the first time in days despite the contradictory tears, Xibalba started playing with his daughter's fingers once more. "You're a tiny bit of _mami_ , _pequeña_ , and for that you're very especial to _papi_. I promise you, I will always be there for you, no matter what."

Marigold giggled as she felt her father plant a kiss on her forehead. After a while, she was lulled to sleep by her father's heart beat and breathing, her eyes closing shut as she rested her head against Xibalba's chest plate. Xibalba stood up and walked towards Marigold's crib silently. The dark god then laid his daughter's fragile body inside the crib, tucker her in as silently as he could, and planted another kiss on her forehead.

" _Dulces sueños_ …" Xibalba smiled at his daughter, stroking her cheek lovingly, giving her the tender look he used to give her mother. " _Mi pequeña_ Marigold." As soon as he knew she was fast asleep, Xibalba straightened up and looked down at the mess in his cloak.

" _Vaya_." He sighed. "Another dirty cloak before time."


	2. Gone

_"LA MUERTE!"_

_Xibalba burst into the room, not caring about the protesting spirits nor the sight of the bed made a complete mess nor about the birthing cry of his newborn child. All he cared about was his wife; the bottom of her gown was all drenched in blood, her hair was a tangled up mess, and there was a look of agony on her lovely face that he never thought he'd see._

_"Mi amor!" Xibalba flew to his wife's side and took a tight hold of her hand. "What's wrong?!"_

_La Muerte glanced at her husband weakly. "Ay, Balby…" she whispered, her breathing slow and unsteady. "I think I'm not going to make it…"_

_Xibalba felt his heart skip a beat. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? "No, don't say that, mi amor! You just need rest, you'll be fine!" His hold on her hand became even tighter._

_La Muerte offered her husband a small smile as she lifted a hand and touched his cheek gingerly. "Mi Balby…" she whispered. He would usually have melted at her touch, but now was not the moment. "Take good care of our pequeña, would you?"_

_"Please, mi corazón, don't leave me again!" Xibalba felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "I'd die without you!"_

_La Muerte could feel her strength slowly fade away, but she nevertheless squeezed Xibalba's hands. "You'll be fine, Balby. You have a strong heart. You've always had it, mi vida."_

_"La Muerte…" Xibalba stroked his wife's cheek with tears rolling down her cheeks. He sensed her life force draining away. "Please… Stay with me… What am I going to do without you?"_

_"Balby, could you do one last thing for me?" La Muerte knew she was running out of time, she had to hurry._

_"Anything! If it will save your life, I will do anything!"_

_La Muerte felt her eyelids heavy, and battled to look at Xibalba's eyes. "Would you kiss me one last time?"_

_"Mi amor…"_

_Her voice was so sad, so pleading, that he could not deny her wish; he would never deny her anything, actually. The dark god kneeled down and his lips touched his wife's; La Muerte's lips lacked the warmth that had always characterized them, instead feeling cold like ice. La Muerte scanned the chambers for her baby, guided by her wailing, and she found her. Her beautiful baby was in Carmen Sánchez's arms, crying, wrapped in pink blankets._

_"Señora Carmen… Please, let me see her…"_

_Carmen approached her Queen's side, in the other side of the bed so not to disturb Xibalba, and held out the child for her mother to see her. La Muerte smiled weakly upon seeing her child this close. "Mi bebé…." With the last of her strength, La Muerte kissed her daughter's forehead; immediately after feeling her mother's lips come into contact with her skin, the baby ceased its crying and remained still, going into slumber._

_"Her name is Marigold."_

_With those last words, La Muerte's hand fell limply on the bed as her eyes closed forever, still smiling. The whole room grew dark as the candles blew out by the presence of death._

_"La Muerte?!"Xibalba took his wife by the shoulders and tried in vain to shake her awake. "Mi amor, open your eyes! I beg you, please wake up!"_

_No response._

_"La Muerte! Don't do this to me, te amo! Please, come back!" His cries grew despaired, but La Muerte remained still._

_No… She was gone…_

_The air in the room grew tense, cold and rigid, making all the spirits grew fearful, adding to their sorrow for their Queen's death. Carmen took a hand to her mouth as she started shedding her own tears. Xibalba himself closed his eyes shut as if trying to stop the flowing tears, clenching his teeth and holding his wife's body close to him, his wings drooping to the ground. "Mi amor… Come back to me…"_

_Carmen was not precisely fond of the trickster god, but her heart felt a great deal of compassion for him, and she remembered the sleeping infant in her arms. "My lord…"_

_Xibalba stiffened and his hold on his dead wife tightened. "Get out…"he hissed like a snake._

_"But my lord, the baby-"_

_Xibalba exploded in a sorrowful wrath, flaring out his wings, snapping his fangs, tears rolling down his cheeks. "GET OUT!"_

_The spirits quickly scrambled out of the room unless they wanted to feel Xibalba's wrath upon them.Carmen had no option but to follow suit; Marigold was startled by her father's outburst and started to cry once more. Once he was alone, Xibalba went back to his mourning, cradling La Muerte's body in his arms like the most precious thing in the world, and she was. He felt like drowning, like something was clutching at his heart and threathening to tear it out of his chest. She was gone, just like the time he was exiled in the Land of the Forgotten and away from her. However, this time there wouldn't be a reconciliation, because she was now gone. Forever._

_XXX_

_Hours passed before Carmen gathered the courage to enter her Queen's chambers, still holding Marigold in her arms. While she usually had the courage to stand up to the dark god, she didn't know how he would act in this state; in other words, she was worried about him, as incredible as it seemed. Judging by what happened, there was a chance that Xibalba would blame the poor child for her mother's death, but she prayed with all her might that it wouldn't be the case. Xibalba was sitting in his late wife's bed, still cradling La Muerte's body in his arms, his wings wrapped around her, his gloved hands stroking her head. His eyes were teary as he looked down at her serene face._

_"M-My lord…" Carmen warily took a few steps forward. "Your daughter…"_

_Xibalba looked away form his wife's body, narrowing his eyes at the bundle of pink in her arms. "She's no daughter of mine."_

_Carmen thought her heart had stopped in that very moment. His snake, who until now had been perched in a hat stand near the door, lifted its two heads and glanced at his master uncredulously. Xibalba focused his attention on La Muerte's body once again, trying to feel her remaining warmth before cold would overcome it._

_"How can you say that?!" Carmen snapped angrily, her motherly instinct for the child she had delivered coming out._

_"In case you haven't noticed, my wife is dead because of her." Xibalba hissed bitterly, his teeth turning into fangs once more, his heart hardening._

_"This child is not to blame for what happened to my lady! She didn't mean this, so don't you act like she did this on purpose!"_

_"If I had known this would happen…" Xibalba stroked La Muerte's cheek sadly. "I would have never gotten her pregnant…"_

_"Are you listening to yourself?! Have you forgotten what La Muerte asked you to do before passing away?! Have you forgotten that even in her deathbed, she showed nothing but love for her baby?! You're saying you would rather forget her last wish!"_

_Xibalba stiffened, his blood starting to boil. "You don't know anything…" his voice was shaking with both anger and pain._

_"Have you considered that you're not the only one suffering?! Things will never be the same here without our Lady, and you're only thinking about yourself!" Carmen bounced the sobbing Marigold in her arms. "This child needs you now more than ever! You may have lost a wife, but she just lost a mother! And she doesn't understand why her mother is not with her! You're all she's got now, and as much as you don't want to admit it, she's all you've got too!"_

_Xibalba wanted to retort, but his mouth remained closed. He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that he didn't need that child in his life after what she did, but he couldn't. Because he knew she was right, for once._

_"Just think about it, would you…?" Carmen said, a little softer this time. "Think what La Muerte would have wanted you to do."_

_With this, she went out, taking Marigold with her, leaving the dark god alone once more to weep and grieve for his loss. Unbeknown to her, her words had managed to shake his resolve. Xibalba knew she was right, that baby was everything he would ever have left of his wife, and she didn't mean to cause this. But, on the other hand, La Muerte had died because of her, hadn't she? But for now, he just cried._

* * *

 

Xibalba woke up sweating, his eyes teary, his heart drumming inside his chest. When he found himself back in his chambers, he closed his eyes and took a hand to his temples, breathing heavily and slowly to calm his fast-beating heart. It happened again, that dreadful night was always coming back to haunt him every night. But the worst thing was that that night was, at the same time, the day his child was born, and so he couldn't completely hate it. Carmen's words were still deeply planted in his brain, and as much as he hated to admit it, it was thanks to her that the voice within that despised his child had been silenced permanently.

The dark god was brought out from his thoughts from a sob coming from his daughter's cradle, followed by loud wailing. Xibalba stood up from bed and approached the crib; as soon as Marigold spotted her father's familiar figure, she reached out her arms for him, like she wanted him to carry her.

"Shhhh…." Xibalba gently picked her up, held her close to his chest and placed his skeletal hand on her belly. " _Hush, mi niña. Papi está aquí_." Marigold's fingers wrapped around his finger, sobbing and snuffling with tiny tears. "What's wrong, _mi florecita_?"

Marigold wriggled in her covers and tried to free her wings to no avail. Xibalba glided back to his bed and sat down, still trying to figure out what was wrong with Marigold. When he rested his back against the dark pillows, Marigold had by then snuggled deeply into his embrace, her face buried in his bare chest, only letting out sniffles every now and then. Maybe…

"You had a bad dream too, didn't you?" he sighed, looking down at his baby as she wiggled slightly. "I had one too, _pequeña_."

It seemed that she only wanted to sleep in his arms, where she felt she would be safe from whatever things had disturbed her sleep. He himself needed some company to sleep for tonight, now that he think of it. Xibalba planted a soft kiss on Marigold's cheek and stroked her tiny head with his thumb gingerly.

"Que duermas bien, _pequeña_."

After a few minutes of watching his little one sleep, Xibalba felt his eyelids heavy; his breathing synchronized with Marigold's, and he wrapped himself and her in his wings, making sure Marigold was sage. Xibalba soon fell asleep, holding his daughter as close to him as possible. They slept peacefully for the rest of the night.


	3. Green Fire

 

The Candlemaker rarely came to the Land of the Forgotten unless he needed to speak with Xibalba about business, in part also because the very nature of the realm gave him the willies. This time, however, he wanted to see how Xibalba was coping; it had been three weeks since La Muerte's death and Marigold's birth; during that time, the Lord of the Forgotten had isolated himself from everything, and refused to set foot in the Land of the Remembered, because it reminded him of her. How ironic, he had spent centuries trying to gain dominion over the Land of the Remembered, and now that he had it he didn't want it, though the Candlemaker could understand his motives.

With the Book of Life in tow, the Candlemaker made his way through the dark corridors of Xibalba's castle, heading towards the latter's chambers, since he wasn't in his study. However, as he was approaching the familiar doors, he was stopped half-way by one of Xibalba's servants, the black lizard-like skeletons.

"Excuse me, good sir, do you have any business with my master?" it asked with a raspy voice.

"More or less." The Candlemaker replied. "I'd like to just have a quick chat with him. I mean, not even Xibalba can go on without interacting socially with anyone for long. I wouldn't like to see him talking to rocks because he has no one to talk to."

"My apologies, sir, but My Lord doesn't wish to be disturbed." The lizard fidgeted with his tail. "Maybe if you'd come back another day-"

"I don't have another day." The Candlemaker looked around nervously. "In fact, I shouldn't even be here, I'm supposed to be making more candles. Can I at least take a peak to what he is doing?"

"I'm sorry, but My Lord gave me strict orders not to let anyone disturb him. He gave me permission to use force if necessary."

The Candlemaker had an idea. "Oh, you're right." He lifted up his hands in defeat, feigning fright. "I shouldn't have provoked you to use force, but what is done is done. I must be punished for such an intrusion." The Book of Life turned to him like he had lost his wind. "So, why don't you go and fetch something to punish me while I wait here until you come back?"

The lizard thought for a moment, before shrugging. "That's not such a bad idea. I think Garra and Colmillo need something to chase around, they've been awfully bored now that the master rarely leaves his chambers." As the lizard spoke, it walked down the corridor to fetch the two hounds.

The Candlemaker sighed in relief. "Phew! That was a close one! That gives us about ten minutes to see what Xibalba is doing." The Candlemaker approached the doors of the dark god's chamber, but he debated on whether or not he should knock the door. Xibalba had been awfully sore and grief-stricken the last time they spoke, and he didn't want to spend the evening removing needle-like black feathers from his butt again. So, the Candlemaker opted to simply peek through the keyhole to see what was happening.

* * *

 

 

Xibalba was in his rocking chair, holding Marigold in his arms; she was safely cocooned in blankets, often wriggling in the warm, protective arms of her father. In that precise moment, Xibalba was giving her the bottle, Marigold's lips were latched on the tip and she suckled the warm horchata hungrily.

"You sure have a big stomach, mija." Xibalba chuckled as he gently bounced his little one. "I admit it, you got it from me."

The Candlemaker felt a great weight being lifted from his shoulders when he saw Xibalba interacting positively with his daughter. After what Carmen and the other spirits said about him when La Muerte died, he had been afraid Xibalba would take out his pain and frustration on the child. However, this wasn't the case.

After a few minutes, Marigold moved her head away from the bottle. Xibalba placed the bottle aside and wiped his daughter's lips gingerly with the tip of the blanket she was wrapped in; she started to whimper and wiggled in her covers, he felt her little wings trying to get free from their restraints. Xibalba panicked momentarily. He still remembered what had happened last week with his cloak when he burped his child for the first time, the least thing he wanted was another dirty cloak in such a short time. Maybe if he didn't bounce her, she wouldn't vomit. Xibalba shifted his daughter so that his hands was between her wings, then he patted her back firmly but softly at the same time. He continued to do this for a while until…

' _UUUURP_ '

The Candlemaker nearly jumped in surprise when Marigold let out a small but loud burp. Xibalba laughed softly at his daughter's antics; she definitely inherited that from him. Marigold gurgled and once more tried to free her wings form the blankets, shifting uncomfortably. Xibalba thought for a moment when he felt her little wings moving under the blankets, maybe it wouldn't hurt to let her stretch her wings a bit, would it? Besides, she was too young to even fly, so it would be fine. He carefully moved his fingers between Marigold's covers, until he felt a feathery surface; as gently as he could, Xibalba pulled his baby's wing out from the blankets, and examined it in awe. The wing was identical to his own, except that this one had golden tips. As soon as Marigold felt her wing free form all the blankets, she flapped it unconsciously, relieved at the sudden freedom. When Xibalba ran his fingers through the feathers, Marigold felt a ticklish sensation and started giggling, wriggling in her covers and trying to move her wing away from her father. With a fond smile, Xibalba tucked his daughter's wing back into the blankets carefully, and turned her around on his arms to release her other wing for a few minutes. Marigold stretched out her other wing and flapped it a bit, gurgling adorably and suckling her finger.

"Ay, mi pequeña." The dark god played with his daughter's curls of black hair with his gloved fingers. His voice then turned sad. " _Tu_ _mami_ would have loved you like I do."

Suddenly, Marigold started to whimper at the mention of her mother, and her tiny fingers took a hold of her father's claw-like fingers tightly. It seemed like she wanted to know why her mother was not around.

" _Ya, ya, mi florecita_." Xibalba whispered gently to her, wiping Marigold's forming tears with the tip of her blanket. "I know you wanted to meet you _mami_ , but…" His heart always clenched in sorrow and pain wherever he spoke about La Muerte. "I'm afraid it'll only be you and me." But he refused to shed any more tears. He had to be strong, for his daughter. Marigold started to cry, struggling to release herself from her blankets, flapping her free wing unconsciously.

Xibalba shushed and bounced her to calm her down, but it was no use. With some effort, he managed to stuff his daughter's wing back into the blankets, but no matter what he did she didn't stop wailing. When he grew desperate, an idea came to him. He hadn't tried it in a long time, but it might work. With a wave of his free hand, Xibalba made a small ball of green fire appear between his wingers. This caught Marigold's attention, as he had hoped, and she stared up at the fire with glossy eyes. Xibalba waved his fingers over his daughter's little head, shaping the fire ball in his hands int different shapes, such as butterflies, songbirds and flowers, dancing around like they were alive. The fire wouldn't burn her, because it wasn't his intention.

Marigold let out gurgles and giggled as she reached out her little hands to try and touch the fire, making Xibalba smile fondly. "Your _mami_ liked it too, _mijita_." He spoke gently, as he continued to play with his baby.

* * *

 

The Candlemaker was by then sobbing comically, even using his beard of clouds to wipe away a few tears. "I think I'm starting to cry." He spoke to the Book of Life, before he heard the barking of hounds. "I think I'll have to do so in the Cave of Souls or I'll end up turning into dog chow!" The Candlemaker disappeared in a flash of light.


	4. Lullaby

The thunders roared and the winds howled as the ash and snow blizzard raged outside Xibalba's castle. While he usually had complete control over his realm, he could not control these random outbursts of ash that occurred every now and then. Wherever he saw the first signs, he ordered his servants to close every single window and door shut. The Forgotten had to find shelter wherever they could, or those who didn't were blown away by the wind.

These ash storms were the main reason La Muerte didn't like his realm very much when she was alive, this stemmed from her natural fear of lighting. Xibalba could recall when they were children and they often snuck out to the Land of the Living; when the foul weather caught them by surprise, La Muerte would try to find refuge in his arms wherever a thunder or a lighting pierced the sky, and he'd comfort her and wrap his wings around her to make her feel safe. This fear of lighting accompanied her even when they grew up, and she'd still try to shelter herself in his arms and wings every time there was a storm.

Unfortunately, it seemed that she passed on this phobia to their baby, and he found out the bad way during Marigold's first blizzard.

* * *

 

Baby cries echoed within the dark halls of the castle every time the thunders unleashed their fury upon the Land of the Forgotten, coming from Xibalba's chambers; the window was closed shut and the curtains were closed, but the clashing of thunder could still be heard loudly. Xibalba held his wailing daughter in his arms, cocooning her further into her little blanket, bouncing her lightly to make her know he was holding her.

"Sh-sh-sh-sh." The dark god shushed as he shifted Marigold in his arms a bit more. " _Esta bien, mi florecita. Aquí estoy_."

But it was no use, the thunders were too loud. And just then, there was a knock on the door. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

"Come in!" Xibalba yelled over the sound of thunder and the cries of his baby. One of the doors opened and one of his servants peeked his head in; he knew better than to disturb his master for too long under these… circumstances.

"My Lord, all the windows and the doors have been closed shut!"

"Good!" Xibalba retorted, hiding his daughter from view with his wing. "Then go and hide with everyone else!"

"Yes, My Lord!" With these last words, the skeleton closed the doors and his running footsteps echoed in the halls.

As much as Xibalba hated to admit it, his servants were the closest thing he had similar to the souls of the Remembered, with their own personalities and all. Being in charge of lost souls who did nothing but weep and sigh for their fatal luck all day, he was thankful the lizard skeletons that served him were not like that. One could even say he was attached to them to some extent; not that he told anyone of this, however.

When the lizard was gone, Xibalba snapped his fingers, and the lock of the doors was set. Then he went back to try and soothe his daughter down. "Shhhhh. P _or favor, no llores, mi pequeñita. Me duele verte llorar_."

Momentarily, Marigold's crying diminished into sniffles, but when yet another thunder roared, Marigold started wailing once again. Xibalba realized he would have to stray her attention away from the thunders to calm her down. But what could he do? For the moment, the only thing he thought of was going to his bed and sit down for the moment. The dark god glided to the side of his bed and took seat, his back resting against the dark pillows; he wrapped his wings around himself and his daughter to form a sort of protective 'shield' from the lighting, like he used to do with La Muerte. However, it seemed like this wouldn't work as easily with his daughter. What could he do…?

"A lullaby!" Xibalba concluded. "Is that what you want?"

Marigold's wailing lowered into sobs for a few moments, but once again turned back into crying when the thunders roared and lightings clapped. Great, now he was in a bigger predicament; singing had never been his forte, he always limited himself to simply listening to music. However, for his daughter he was willing to try. But now there was another question; what could he sing to her? He didn't know that man lullabies, and it had to be one that his deep voice could handle, otherwise it would startle Marigold even further.

Maybe…

There was one song he remembered. It had been La Muerte' favorite song, and she would often sing it to him when they were on a date; she had sung it the day they got married, actually. She had even sung it to Marigold when she was pregnant with her. Yes, maybe it would work. Holding Marigold close to his chest, Xibalba started to sing.

' _Te amo y más de lo que puedes imaginar_

 _Te amo además como nunca nadie jamás lo hará_ '

He proceeded to wipe away his daughter's tears with his thumbs.

' _En esta canción, va mi corazón_

 _amor más que amor es el nuestro y te lo vengo a dar_ '.

The lullaby was apparently having its intended effect; little Marigold sniffled and looked up at her father with glossy eyes. She knew that song. Xibalba delicately tickled her nose, making her gurgle.

' _Te miro y más y más y mas te quiero mirar_

_Te amo y sabras puro sentimiento y no hay nada más_

_Y sueño llegar a tu alma tocar_

_Amor más que amor es el nuestro y te lo vengo a dar_ '

Marigold wrapped her little wingers around Xibalba's index finger and held it tightly, purring gingerly.

' _Ruego a Dios tenerte a mi lado_

_y entonces poderte abrazar_

_Si no estás aquí algo falta_

_Yo por ti pelearé hasta el final._ '

Xibalba smiled a little when Marigold's eyes started to shutter and she let out a small yawn.

' _Y sueño llegar a tu alma tocar_

 _Amor mas que amor es el nuestro y te lo vengo a dar_.'

Marigold lay her head against her father's chest and snuggled deeply into his embrace, the sound of his heartbeat muffling the thunder.

' _Te amo y mas_

_Te amo y sabras que nadie como yo te amará_

_En esta canción yo veo quien soy_ '

Xibalba planted a kiss on his daughter's cheek.

' _Amor mas que amor es mio y lo siento_

_Amor mas que amo es el tuyo y presiento_

_Amor mas que amor sera el nuestro si tu me lo das._ '

When he was done, Marigold was fast asleep, still holding into his finger tightly, wanting to make sure her father was still there.

Xibalba smiled lightly when he watched her sleep, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. The song had brought him memories of La Muerte, and wondered if she would have been proud of him for managing to calm their child during a blizzard. Another thunder pierced the sky, but Marigold simply shifted a bit before relaxing again; she felt safe in her father's embrace, she had nothing to fear. 

Xibalba carefully lay his daughter on bed, a few inches away from him, not enough to suffocate her, but enough to hold her close. He lay down on bed as well, embracing his baby with a wing and placing a hand upon her fragile little body.

He soon joined her in the world of dreams.


	5. How to Change a Diaper

God in heaven.

What he had dreaded the most had finally happened.

Marigold needed her diaper changed, she made him know when she started wailing. But the problem was that he didn't know how to change diapers, these days he'd always rely on either his servants, and begrudgingly, he'd ask the Candlemaker for help wherever Marigold made her 'business'. But this time, however, the Candlemaker was too busy in making new life candles and his servants had to do their chores around the castle, so he was alone in this one.

Xibalba let out a sigh of dismay as he laid his wailing daughter on the wooden table in his chambers, trying not to faint at the terrible smell of his daughter's poop, and he hadn't even removed her dirty diaper just yet. How ironic; he, Xibalba, King of the Land of the Forgotten, Ruler of the Underworld, who sent everyone, mortal, spirit, or otherwise, running away with one glare, was incapable of changing a simple diaper.

How he wished he had paid attention to La Muerte when she was teaching him how diapers were changed, she always seemed to feel less uneasy about changing diapers than he did. Whose help could he ask right now? Carmen was out of the question, he would rather kiss a frog than ask help form that woman, not because of his pride, but because she'd assault him with her famous 'I told you' phrase. That only left one option…

" _Maldita sea_ …" Xibalba muttered under his breath as he rubbed his temples. "I can't believe what I'm going to do."

His serpent slid up the table, and its two heads tickled Marigold's cheeks with their thin tongues; Marigold giggled and reached out for the serpent, but it had slithered a few inches away and was looking up at its master's expression amusingly.

"What?" Xibalba raised an eyebrow at it. "Don't tell me even you're going to make fun of me because I can't change a diaper!"

The snake shook its two heads, and it kept distracting Marigold playfully. However, even it had its limits to the smell of the dirty diaper. One thing he did know about changing a baby's diaper was that he shouldn't leave her unattended for one second, or she could squirm off the table at any time, like he learned the first time he changed her diaper; had gone to fetch a clean diaper and left Marigold on top of the table, it was thanks to one of his passing by servants that she didn't fall of the table. Now, however, he was alone.

"Ponzoña," Xibalba softly spoke to his serpent. "Keep her in place, but to not squeeze her too much."

The snake slid on top of Marigold and kept her in place, thought the little one was making it more difficult when she flapped her wings in discomfort and let out squeals, her little legs kicking the air.

"Okay…" Xibalba gulped, opening up a clean diaper and placing the back half under his daughter, up to her waist. " _Aquí voy_."

It couldn't be that hard. He'd done it before, with help from others, but he'd done it. He'd just have to do the same he did those times, only that this time he wouldn't have the Candlemaker or his servants to tell him what to do. He'd have to remember the steps carefully, the least thing he wanted was causing Marigold diaper rash. Xibalba unfastened the tabs on the dirty diaper, folding them over to prevent them from sticking to his baby, and reluctantly pulled down the front half.

He immediately took his hand to his nose when the odor multiplied tenfold now that it was free, and his stomach flipped when he saw the brown-colored mess inside the diaper. Even Ponzoña gagged upon sensing the smell so close. The dark lord contained the urge to throw up. If La Muerte were watching, she'd probably have giggled and made a teasing commentary about this.

What was next…? Xibalba gently grasped Marigold's both ankles with one hand and carefully lifted her upwards, making her squeal and flap her wings in discomfort. He then proceeded to fold the dirty diaper under her, the clean side up, before laying his daughter's bottom back down. Xibalba gulped; now it was the part he was dreading, he had to clean her bottom. Taking a damp cloth from beside the table, he wiped her from bottom to front- but one of Ponzoña's heads slid around his gloved hand and shook its head.

"What?" Xibalba inquired in annoyance, trying and failing to continue with the task. "Am I doing something wrong or something?!"

When Ponzoña nodded his head, Xibalba looked down at the now dirty cloth, wondering what he was doing incorrectly. Then he remembered that he was supposed to wipe front to back, towards her bottom or the poop would go into her… crevice and she would get an infection. Despite the tension, Xibalba couldn't help but smile a bit at his snake.

"What would I do without you, Ponzoña?"

The snake hissed in reply and uncurled from his master's hand, going back to keeping the squirming Marigold in place. After wiping her-correctly, this time-, Xibalba placed the dirty cloth aside and took another damp cloth to wipe his daughter's bottom. Lifting her legs gently, Xibalba proceeded to clean the creases in Marigold's thighs and buttocks, before laying her down again. Now he was supposed to let her skin air dry for a few moments. However, now being fully exposed to the cold air, Marigold squirmed and wiggled even more than before, whimpering, flapping her wings.

"Shhhh…" Xibalba laid his hand on her belly and tickled her chest with his fingers playfully, making her giggle. "I'm almost done, _mi florecita_."

After about two minutes, her bottom dried enough for Xibalba to remove the dirty diaper and set it aside. Now he had to pour some baby powder on her bottom to prevent her from getting diaper rash, and he'd be done. He pulled the front half of the clean diaper, and conjured a bottle of baby powder with a snap of his fingers. However, as he gently shook the bottle on top of his daughter's bottom, nothing came out. Confused, he tried again, but once more nothing came out.

"What the-?" Xibalba turned the bottle of powder around to see what was wrong with it. He remembered he was supposed to turn the top, but as he did so, he forgot he was still pressing the bottle, and a whole cloud of white powder flew up to his face, making him let out a cry of surprise, and a few coughs afterwards. Marigold giggled upon seeing her father's face all white matching his beard and moustaches, wiggling her arms up to him innocently. Even Ponzoña snickered in amusement.

"Haha, very funny, you two." Xibalba grumbled with a small frown, wiping the powder from his face and shaking the bottle down at Marigold's bottom. How much was he supposed to use…? Just to be certain, he shook a bit more into the diaper, before setting the bottle aside. Finally, he pulled the front half of the diaper up to Marigold's tummy when Ponzoña slithered off, making sure the part of the diaper between her legs was spread as wide as seemed comfortable. Xibalba then fastened the diaper at both sides with the tabs, snuggly but not so tight, or it would pinch her.

Finally! Done.

With a collected sigh of relief, Xibalba picked his daughter up and took her to his bed, where he had placed her little pink shoes, and her red long-sleeved infant bodysuit. He dressed her up, tickling her belly and butterfly kissing her cheek as he did so to make her giggle, and then he took her back in his arms, wrapping her in a blanket tenderly. Cocooned and contently warm after spending minutes exposed to cold air, Marigold snuggled into her father's protective embrace, fidgeting with his moustache curiously.

"I can' wait until you learn to use the toilet, Marigold." Xibalba spoke softly, grinning down at his child and stroking her cheek with his thumb.

Ponzoña hissed at his master to call his attention, then pointed one head at the dirty diaper left behind on the changing table. Reluctantly, Xibalba stood from bed and walked towards the table, lifting the dirty diaper with one hand, wincing in disgust as he did so, and headed towards his bathroom, opening the door and going in. The floor and wall tiles were colored a deep purple with phosphorescent green shapes of snakes and skulls. The toilet and the bathtub were made of obsidian, just like the furniture in his chambers; Xibalba quickly let the dirty diaper fall into the toilet and flushed it quickly, letting out a sigh of relief when the awful smell was gone.

Yup. He just couldn't wait until Marigold learned to use the toilet.


	6. Album

It was very late.

He'd already put Marigold to sleep in his bed, after she fell asleep on his arms when he took her out to play in the snow. Not that one could tell what time it was in that place, it was just intuition, that's what he told himself. Not even Xibalba could tell if it was morning in the Land of the Living if he had not gone up to check it out. Even if it was actually night, however, Xibalba wasn't tired. He didn't feel as much exhausted as he thought, so he had a lot of time until either Marigold woke up next morning, or until sleepiness came to him. He was wishing it was the latter, he felt like he needed to lay down and take a good nap after today. Who'd have thought Marigold would have been so smart at barely one year old? She could already make crude mini snowmen, and explore around the castle when he was not around (under supervision, of course), and even try to fly (he'd have to be more careful with this, unless he wanted Marigold to jump from the balcony in her attempts).

Sighing, Xibalba made his way to his bookshelves to find something to read and kill the time. The dark god's favorite book genders were mystery and horror, mostly those about creatures of the night who haunted humans, like Dracula or Frankenstein, but for some reason tonight he just didn't feel like reading those. Not even his personal favorite, The Phantom of the Opera, seemed appealing right now.

Suddenly, Xibalba stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of a particular tome, covered by dust. Pulling it out carefully, he examined it with a sudden feeling of sorrow in his chest. This tome was bound of red leather, slightly rotten from all the time it spent in the bookshelf, forgotten. The pages were yellow because of the passage of time, but he hoped that what these pages contained was still intact. Xibalba made his way to his rocking chair, holding the old tome in both his hands, removing the dust from its cover. He'd kept this even after all this time, even though he had eventually forgotten he placed it there, where he could see it, precisely in the bookshelf with his favorite books. Xibalba couldn't tell, however, if he had overlooked this particular tome on purpose because it would bring him memories of La Muerte, or it was simply accidental. Still, maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a peek, it had been so long ever since he looked at the contents. Sitting down on his rocking chair, Xibalba slowly opened the long book with a trembling hand.

It was a photo album.

He and La Muerte had placed their pictures in this tome ever since they were young, and they'd often rekindle those memories when she went to visit. During the time of his exile, he would often sit down and stare at those pictures to remember his wife, until they were too much for him to bear and he tucked the album away. After their reconciliation, La Muerte's death and Marigold's birth, he had forgotten about the album until now.

The first pages of the album depicted both Xibalba and La Muerte as children, when they were not yet the rulers of their respective domains, just children; when they met, she had been eight, and he was ten. The pictures, just like the pages, were somewhat worn down by time. La Muerte was beautiful, even as a child, with her long, flowing waving black hair tied with a ribbon cascading form her head, nearly reaching the floor, adorned with two marigolds on both sides of her forehead, and her long dress with sleeveless white bodice and red skirt hiding her legs from view; the skirt was adorned with golden lining, and the top of the bodice had more marigolds adorning it. She had a little make up, with a bit of red lipstick, but her eyes were shaded in a deep blue, even then, contrasting her sugary skin. Instead of her sombrero, she used to wear a small coronet of red candles burning brightly pulling back strands of her hair.

And as it had always been, he had been her opposite in appearance. If her skin was made of sugar and all the sweetest things in the world, his was made of tar and the ickiest things in the world. A green substance seemingly poured from the inside of his ribs and down into his robe-like cloak, an his crown had been a small thing, with short swirly horns with two calaveritas and only four candles burning with green fires. Similarly, when he was a child he wore no armor, only two shoulder pads shaped like snake heads, one calaverita in each. At that time he hadn't yet grown his beard nor moustache and his eyebrows were still a dark gray.

Most of the pictures depicted them playing, sometimes hide-and-seek, other times tag, or they'd simply lay on a flower field together and look for shapes in the clouds. Despite feeling the wound in his heart starting to reopen when he recalled all those moments of innocence, Xibalba continued examining the pictures, coming across one that he cherished very much…

* * *

 

 

_La Muerte giggled as her friend led her by the hand through the old village. Around them, the Mayan people were oblivious to their presence, because the young gods wished so._

_"Come on, Balby!" she laughed. "What is it so important that you had to drag me out of my birthday party?"_

_"I have a gift for you." Xibalba simply replied, his wings flapping in excitement._

_"Couldn't you have given it to me already?"_

_"And spoil the surprise? No way!"_

_La Muerte rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. Really, Xibalba and his surprises. Whatever it was, she hoped it wouldn't take long; the sun was already setting, and her father would take notice that she was missing. When they were on the edge of town, near a small but pretty field of colorful flowers, Xibalba stopped and teleported behind La Muerte, covering her eyes._

_"Xibalba?" she inquired curiously, lifting her hands to remove his from her eyes, but he remained firm._

_"Confía en mí." She heard him whisper into her ear. "You're going to like it. "_

_She said nothing more for the moment instead allowing her friend to guide her. She felt the grass crunch softly beneath her feet. After a while, Xibalba made her stop, and removed his hands form La Muerte's eyes. The young girl took her hands to her mouth in wonder._

_The whole field had been planted with crimson roses forming a big heart. On the sides of the heart, white roses were planted in the form of little angel wings._

_"Ay, Balby." She spoke softly, walking closer to the rose heart. "You made it for me?"_

_"It wasn't that easy, I had to plant those roses without pinching myself with their spines." Xibalba replied, showing her his somewhat cut hands. "But I wanted to do something special for you." There was a look of uncertainty on his face. "Do you like it?"_

_"Like it?" La Muerte examined the flowers carefully. Each was fresh, with not a single rotten petal, accommodated in perfect synchrony with one another. She could tell Xibalba had poured his heart into this gift. "No, I don't like it."_

_Xibalba looked down in disappointment, but was caught by surprise when La Muerte teleported in front of him and wrapped her arms around his neck._

_"I love it!" she squealed, giving Xibalba a kiss in the cheek. Both blushed deeply when she did so, and when she pulled away from the embrace, she realized it was very late. "It's getting late, Balby. We should go back or they'll wonder where we are."_

_"Do we have to?" Xibalba whined, his wings drooping._

_"Why don't we just stay here and tease some humans?"_

_"Xibalba!" La Muerte stomped her foot and took her hands to her hips. "Remember what our fathers said about toying with humans!"_

_"You're starting to sound like them." Xibalba looked away with a pout. However, he started to tremble and blush when she felt La Muerte's fingers trace up his shoulder. "Por favor, Balby?" she chimed innocently._

_The dark child finally relented with a goofy smile. "Okay, let's go…" he grinned mischievously. "…Muertita."_

_La Muerte's eyes widened, but before she could say something, Xibalba had already teleported away. "Xibalba!" she cried out in annoyance, teleporting away after him_.

* * *

 

Xibalba chuckled as he recalled the yelling he got after that. She had never liked to be called like that, while he on the other hand loved when she called him by the childhood nickname she made up for him. Xibalba gently touched his left cheek with his fingers, where she had kissed him for the first time in their lives. He continued looking through the album, and watched as they grew from children to teens, when La Muerte started developing her curves and started wearing a small sombrero with candles on top and his beard and moustache started to grow. While they hadn't settled down completely when they reached puberty, they stopped playing childish games (minus tag, that game never grew too infantile for them) and instead simply hung around, the hormones had started to spike and they became more rebellious to authority; mostly on his part, actually. Not only that, but it was in this stage of their lives that their friendship had started to blossom into love. Xibalba came across another cherished picture, this one even better than the last.

* * *

 

 

_It started to rain when they least expected, but what they didn't expect was that it was a thunderstorm._

_They quickly teleported under the large oaken tree located in the middle of a small hill on the side of a great lake to wait for it to end, but La Muerte had always been afraid of thunders. As soon as the first thunder had roared through the dark sky, she went to find refuge into her friend's arms, and so he had to teleport them both under the tree._

_"La Muerte…" Xibalba gagged, feeling his friend's arms tighten around his thorax and squeeze the air out of him. "I can't breath…"_

_La Muerte loosened her grip on him when she heard him choking. "I'm sorry, Xibalba, it's just…" When another thunder clashed, she whimpered and buried her face into his chest. "I'm scared."_

_Xibalba was hesitant, but he finally wrapped his arms around her waist and his fingers fidgeted with her long black hair. After a while, he embraced her with his wings to make her feel safe. The sound of raindrops was nearly muffled every time another round of lighting and thunder came, but the sound that called his attention the most was one of sobs._

_La Muerte was sobbing._

_"Muertita?" he called her the nickname she disliked so much, but instead of growing angry and yelling at him not to call him like that, she snuggled deeply into his embrace when she heard the lighting clapping. He didn't know she was this scared of thunderstorms. He decided to do something about it…_

_"Shhhh… No llores, por favor." Xibalba whispered softly, running his hand down her back and placing the other on her head. "I hate to see you sad."_

_"I'm scared…" was all she said._

_"La Muerte." He spoke a bit louder this time, looking down at his friend. He lifted her chin with his gloved, claw-like fingers so that she would look into his eyes; hers were glossy from tears. "Look at me. Don't mind the thunder, just look at me and everything will be fine." He wiped a tear running down her cheek with his thumb._

_"Balby-" she tried to speak, but he placed a finger on her lips._

_"Don't speak, just look at my eyes." Both remained like this for a while, looking into each other's eyes, captivated by the other. Xibalba had always loved her eyes colored like Marigolds, always full of life, kindness, and sweetness and overall, her fierce spirit. She was the only friend he ever had in his life, after all other spirits always ran away at the sight of him._

_La Muerte, on the other hand, was staring into the red-skull pupils she knew and loved so much. He had always been so tender, so sweet with her ever since they were children, always trying to make her happy even when she was mad at him, and it always made her heart leap out in joy._

_"Balby…" she whispered, resting her hands against Xibalba's chest._

_"La Muerte…" Xibalba spoke in a low voice, taking La Muerte's face in his hands gingerly._

_What happened next was out of their control. Closing their eyes, they leaned in and their lips touched tenderly, La Muerte's hand going up Xibalba's chest and wrapping around his neck, while he pulled her closer with his wings, his thumbs rubbing her soft cheeks softly, wiping her tears away. They expressed their long-concealed love in that kiss just as another lighting dashed through the storm cloud._

* * *

 

 

Despite the aching in his heart upon remembering their first, true kiss, Xibalba smiled fondly. After that, things were never the same again; they spent most of their time together, going out on dates and hanging out, they didn't stand being apart from the other. During the years they matured and their hormones settled down, he started courting her properly, like a true gentleman. He'd give her bouquets of roses, or surprise her by taking her out to dinner in the Land of the Remembered, or they'd simply go on a picnic beneath the very same tree where they confessed their love for each other.

Xibalba came across a picture that made him laugh softly. In this particular one, he and La Muerte were atop his mighty black steed Medianoche, a large Friesian stallion with thick feathered legs, and a mane and tail that nearly reached the floor, as well as fuming red eyes. Green, swirly patterns ran down its legs, neck and head; unlike the horses of the Land of the Remembered, Medianoche was not skeletal-looking, he looked like he was a horse of the Land of the Living. In this picture, La Muerte sat on his lap, snuggling deeply into Xibalba's arms as he led the horse with his left hand, one wing folded upon his back, the other gently embracing La Muerte. They were young adults at that time, and she already wore her characteristic and ridiculously large sombrero and her gorgeous passionate scarlet dress, while he now wore his characteristic armor, gloves and crown, and when his hair started turning white. Xibalba recalled that when he took La Muerte out for these rides, he'd often gallop at full speed when she wasn't expecting it and he'd lead Medianoche towards a cliff to jump to the other side, scaring the heck out of her. She'd be mad at him for a few moments, before leaning back into his embrace for safety.

When he skipped to the next page, his heart nearly stopped. The suffocating feeling of sorrow and pain from before returned to his chest, and his eyes started stinging with tears once more.

These were the pictures of their wedding day.

Even though he had not seen these photos in a long while, he would never forget her radiant beauty the day she made him the happiest man in the universe. Her wedding dress made her sugary skin look even lovelier than ever, and her contrasting black hair was adorned with marigolds. Her dress had been a strapless satin fit and flare gown with a sweetheart neckline: the fully draped gown had been accented at the low hip with a draped corsage of beaded sating and organza flowers, finished with a chapel length train. Her bouquet consisted of roses, lilacs and lilies wrapped in a white ribbon, making his beloved smell like flowers. She was smiling in the picture; Xibalba almost felt like she was smiling back at him.

The dark god ran a finger over his wife's cheek in the picture, like he would feel her warmth once more. His heart started cracking in pain once more, the wound starting to bleed and ache as he remembered that day. Xibalba took in deep breaths to try and contain his tears, but they were winning.

" _Mi corazón_ …" he whispered, choking back tears.

* * *

 

 

_La Muerte giggled as Xibalba dismounted her from his horse and carried her bridal style to his castle, where they would spend their first night together as husband and wife. She looked radiant in her wedding dress while he had worn his usual attire. La Muerte knew he didn't like formal attire, but she didn't mind._

_"When can I open my eyes, Balby?" she inquired, her head resting against Xibalba's chest, her arms wrapped around his neck, her eyes closed._

_"I'll tell you, mi amor." Xibalba chuckled. "It's a surprise."_

_La Muerte complied and kept her eyes closed. She heard a door creaking open, and Xibalba's wings flapping slowly._

_"Okay, you can look now." La Muerte opened her eyes, and gasped in wonder at what she saw._

_Xibalba's chambers were romantically decorated. Rose and Marigold petals adorned the floor, forming a small path that led to the dark-sheeted bed, also adorned with contrasting marigold and rose petals. Candles scattered around over the furniture or the floor lit the room, and the fireplace was burning with a pinkish-toned fire. On his night table, she spotted two glasses and an elegant bottle._

_"Ay, Balby." La Muerte spoke softly, as her husband placed her back on the ground. "This is beautiful."_

_"Just like you, mi corazón." Xibalba whispered into her ear and placed his gloved hands on her shoulders. "I know how much it means to you. I want this night to be as especial to you as it will be to me."_

_La Muerte turned around to face her husband, and started fidgeting with his beard, making Xibalba blush deeply. "Being with you is enough to make this night, and the rest of our nights together, especial to me." She wrapped her arms around Xibalba's neck. "Make me yours. And yours alone."_

_Xibalba stroked her cheeks with his hands, smiling tenderly. "I can't disobey a command from mi amor, can I?"_

_The two kissed timidly, but soon it turned into a passionate kiss as Xibalba found the zipper to La Muerte's dress and started pulling it down, and La Muerte found the latch of his armor…_

_Their clothes were soon forgotten on the floor as the newly-wed couple went to bed and expressed their love for each other. Their lips were together in a passionate yet gentle kiss, their legs intertwined as they became one. La Muerte's arms were wrapped around her husband's neck, while Xibalba ran his hands through La Muerte's silky hair, pulling her as close to him as possible. His touch was very tender, he knew this was her first time, so the dark god was careful in every movement._

_They tasted each other in their kiss. Xibalba's tongue examined La Muerte's palate, it was very sweet like sugar skulls, just like her. La Muerte allowed her husband's tongue to taste the inside of her mouth, leaving a strong taste of wine and grapes, mixed with some churros. She felt warmth and shadows around her, and opened an eye slightly. Xibalba was embracing her with his wings, it made her feel safe. Closing her eye, she pulled herself closer to Xibalba, and shivered with pleasure when she felt his hands run down her back. She started trembling slightly._

_"Balby…" she whimpered, breaking away from the kiss and her hands grasping his shoulders tightly._

_"Shhh… Don't be afraid, mi amor." Xibalba cooed her, running his hand down her shoulder. "I promise you, it'll be slow."_

_With that, the both of them joined their lips once again._

* * *

 

 

Tears fell on the pages as the most painful yet treasured memory of all came to him.

Xibalba took his hand to his temples as he closed his eyes, trying to stop his tears to no avail. He missed her, her missed her terribly, he needed her. He wanted to feel her by his side once again, to kiss her lips, feel her smell of flowers: every minute he spent without her was a torment.

"Papa."

He was brought out from his thoughts when he felt a little hand tugging on his wing and a little voice call out for him. Blinking his tears away, Xibalba looked down to see Marigold looking up at him with glossy eyes, her snake plush dragging unto the floor, having crawled all the way from his bed.

"What's wrong, _mi florecita_?" he gently spoke, patting her head a bit.

When she held up her arms to him, he realized she wanted him to hold her. Temporally setting the album aside, Xibalba picked his daughter up and sat her on his lap, taking the photo album once more. "I was just taking a look at these old photos."

As soon as she was sitting on his lap, she immediately snuggled into his arms, seeking comfort. However, as she caught glance of the picture and the beautiful goddess clad in a wedding gown, she felt strangely attracted to her. Marigold reached out her hand and touched La Muerte's picture with her little fingers. "Mama."

Xibalba nearly felt his heart break in two when that word escaped from his daughter's lips, and he pulled her closer to him. "Yes, _mi florecita_. That's your mama."

"Mama." She repeated, feeling drawn to the woman in the picture.

Unable to bear looking at the pictures for the moment, Xibalba closed it and set it aside gently, but as soon as he did, Marigold sobbed and started to cry, reaching out for it.

"Sh-sh-sh." Xibalba took her in his arms and managed to restrain her wings temporally as he embraced her tightly. "I know you miss her, Marigold. I miss her terribly too, but she's gone." Marigold's cries softened into whimpers. He then brushed a strand of black hair from her face. "That's why we have to stick together, _mi bebita_. We only have each other." When he kissed her forehead, she ceased crying and startled suckling on her snake plush, before falling asleep into her father's embrace.

Xibalba stood up from the rocking chair and walked towards his bed carefully. Once more, he lay his daughter on top of it and covered her with his sheets gingerly. He lay down next to her and watcher her sleep for a while, stroking her head tenderly. He missed La Muerte, he missed her with all his heart, but his little Marigold made living without her less painful. She was his _pequeñita_ , his baby, his light in the darkness of his despair. That night, he made a promise, both to his daughter and his late wife.

"I will always protect you, _mi florecita_." Xibalba whispered, embracing her with his wing. "Like I promised your _mami_ in her deathbed, I promise you I will always protect you."


	7. First Steps

When Marigold learned to crawl, the whole world opened up to her.

The world that she knew, at least; in other words, her father's castle, having never ever set a foot outside unless Xibalba took her out to play in the snow, for obvious reasons, both because of her father's overprotectiveness and her lack of mobility. As much as her little mind hated to admit it, she couldn't get that far. What made matters worse was that she was driven by curiosity, often trying to figure out and understand new things by herself, much to Xibalba's dismay. He couldn't leave her in the crib all the time, but he couldn't neglect his duty either.

But the worst thing of all was that the Land of the Forgotten was full of dangers for a soon-to-be toddler, not only because of the sharp, jagged stalagmites and stalagmites outside and the lake of lava that surrounded the castle, but also within the castle itself although on minor scale. The floor was quite slippery, and the furniture was mostly made of obsidian, one of the sharpest glasses in the world.

Long story short, leaving her unattended could result in Marigold getting hurt, or worse.

* * *

 

 

Marigold wailed as her jaw came into contact with the hard floor after her hand slipped, and she continued to scream even after Xibalba quickly teleported to her side all the way from his study-somehow he developed an instinctive alarm to when his baby was in distress-and quickly picked her up, holding her close to his chest and bouncing her in alarm.

" _Ya, ya, mi florecita, papi esta aquí_." He soothed her, wiping her tears away with his thumbs and kissing her head tenderly. "Sh-sh-sh. _Está bien, mi niña_." After a while, Marigold's crying diminished, and it ceased after a few more seconds. Xibalba used the skirt of her little sunflower colored dress to dry some of her tears before lifting her up in his hands and smiling at her.

"Aww, you're such a _pedacito de cielo_! Yes you are!" he butterfly kissed his daughter's belly, making her laugh wildly and flap her wings in excitement. The dark god teleported to his chambers holding Marigold in his arms, and headed straight to bed. There, he lay her down to play a bit with her after spending the whole night working on piles of paperwork. Xibalba lifted up the little fabric from his daughter's belly, and started tickling her, making Marigold laugh wildly, flailing her little arms and wings in excitement. After a while, he pressed his lips against her belly and blew, making her laugh even more.

"Oh, _sí_ , _papi_ loves you very much! Yes, I do! Yes I do!" he laughed along with her, playing with her little fingers and nuzzling her tummy. Xibalba snapped his fingers and summoned a snake-shaped baby rattle; he had made it for Marigold when she was still in La Muerte's womb. As soon as he started shaking the rattle in front of her, Marigold reached out her little arms for it, trying to catch it with a beaming smile in her face. Xibalba felt his heart leap with joy wherever he heard his daughter laughing, or saw a smile on her cute little face.

Finally, Marigold's tiny fingers caught her father's larger index fingers, and managed to take the rattle from his grasp, suckling on it innocently. Xibalba chuckled and tickled his daughter's nose, which she grasped in a fraction of second. He'd never had so much fun for a good while. Unfortunately, his eyelids were heavy and he was exhausted, considering he had spent all night immersed in his paperwork, and right now he wanted to take a good nap. Maybe it wouldn't hurt just to… sleep for a little while, just enough to go on for the rest of the day.

Marigold watched in curiosity as her father stood up, interrupting their little game, and lay down on bed with sleepy eyes. She crawled up to him and pulled on his feathers to try and get him to play again, but he just looked apologetically at her.

"I'm sorry, mi florecita…" Xibalba yawned widely. "I need to sleep for a while. Would you mind playing with Ponzoña?" Said snake was perched on top of the hat stand next to the night table, taking a nap himself.

"Papa." She kept pulling on his feathers.

"I'll play with you a bit longer when I wake up, I promise…" With these last words, Xibalba closed his eyes and allowed his exhaustion and tiredness to take over, sending him into a deep sleep.

Marigold kept pulling on his feathers for a while until she realized her attempts to wake him up were not working. She crawled to his stretched wing, and started playing with the black feathers curiously, before Xibalba shifted in his sleep and his wing moved unconsciously, causing Marigold to trip and roll over to end up face-up. Marigold wiggled and tried to go back face-down, until she realized her father's feathers were very soft and comfortable. Soon, the comfort and warmth of Xibalba's wings were lulling her to sleep as well, making her yawn slightly and close her little eyes, falling asleep in the warm wings.

Xibalba temporally regained awareness when he felt something wriggling over his wing, and he opened an eye slightly to see if Ponzoña was plucking his feathers for his bed again. Instead, he found Marigold snuggled into his feathers, her wings half-spread, suckling on her finger. Xibalba couldn't contain a grin as he placed his hand on top of her little body, cooing when she shifted under his touch.

" _Dulces sueños_ , Marigold."

* * *

 

 

… He didn't know how much time passed before he woke up much more refreshed. He shifted around in his bed, stretching his wings… Wait a second! Stretch his wings?! Xibalba snapped his eyes open upon realizing Marigold was not napping on his wing, she wasn't even in his bed.

"Marigold?!" he quickly rose from bed, looking around his chambers for any signs of his child's whereabouts. His heart nearly stopped; she must have snuck out when he was asleep, and gone who knows where.

"MARIGOLD!"

Xibalba burst out of his chambers, nearly breaking the doors, and flew through the castle's halls and rooms at full speed, looking for his daughter frenetically, fearing the worst. What if she fell from the balcony into the lava moat below, or she cut herself with any of the furniture's sharp edges, or…? The possibilities were so many that he couldn't even imagine them.By the time he burst into the throne room and found no signs of her, Xibalba was growing desperate. However, his parental instinct was still calm, so it meant she had not yet hurt herself.

"Marigold!" the dark god called out for his daughter in desperation. "If you can hear me say something!"

"Papa!"

A great wave of relief washed over him when he heard his daughter's little voice, coming from beneath the table where all the food was placed. Unfortunately, his cooks were not as good as the chefs from the Land of the Remembered, but their food was edible enough for him to eat, and that was enough. Most of the food on the long table consisted of pan de muertos, cakes, tacos, empanadas and grapes, along with a few bottles of wines and baskets of bread and cheese.

Xibalba saw his daughter's little figure crawling from beneath the table, and he quickly flew towards her and scooped her in his arms, holding her close to his chest. Then he started checking his squealing daughter for major injuries, and when he was certain everything was alright, he held her in his hands and frowned at her.

"Don't scare me like that again, _jovencita_!"

Marigold was reaching out for something on the table; a basket of churros that lay just in the center, next to the tray of empanadas.

"You came all this way here just for some churros?" Xibalba inquired with a raised eyebrow, before realization hit him. How had she came all the way here from his chambers? She couldn't have crawled, her knees and her dress would be filthy. Xibalba lifted the skirt of his daughter's dress to take a look at her knees. No, her knees were clean and had no cuts. Could it be…?

"Did you walk, Marigold?" Xibalba inquired at his child, despite knowing she wouldn't answer.

Marigold just whimpered and tried to reach for the churros. Xibalba felt a mixture of feelings brewing up in his chest; hope that his little girl was learning how to walk, frustration at having missed her first steps, and worry that she may now wander off anywhere. But he needed to confirm the theory. Carefully, Xibalba kneeled down to place his daughter on her feet, keeping her balanced and up by her waist.

"Marigold." He spoke softly to her, slowly sliding his big gloved hands up to her arms, and from there down to her little hands. "Can you keep your balance?" When he let go of his daughter's hands, it took a few seconds for her to quickly lose her balance and fall on her bottom. Instead of crying, however, Marigold giggled and clapped her little hands at the 'little game'. Xibalba sighed and lifted his daughter to her feet once more. "Vamos, _mi niña_. You can do it." He let go of her one more time, and one more time she lost her balance and fell to the floor on her bottoms, giggling. It seemed like she would need some more convincing to try and walk again. And maybe he knew what it would take…

Marigold watched as her father stood up and took something from the long table, then her eyes lit up when he kneeled down and held out a churro for her. However, as she reached out for it, Xibalba moved it away from her with a playful grin.

"No, no, no, _jovencita_. If you want it, come for it."

For a few more seconds, she just sat down reaching for the churro, but her determination to get it was strong. She sat up in the floor, then she managed to get on her feet, flapping her wings wherever she was about to lose her balance; Xibalba watched in awe as Marigold took a few, shaky steps forward, heading towards the churro in his left hand. However, her left foot slipped on the marble floor and she tripped, falling face-down and hitting her jaw. Xibalba immediately scooped her in his arms as soon as she started to cry and gently rubbed her lower jaw with his thumb.

"Sh-sh-sh. Ya, ya, _esta bien, mi pequeñita_." When her crying lowered into sniffles, he waved the waiting churro above her little face; as soon as she spotted the object of her craving, her little fingers grasped it and tried to take it from her father's much stronger hold. Xibalba smiled when she nibbled on the churro and suckled on it like she was suckling on a feeding bottle.

"Another trait you got from me." He sighed, releasing the churro and watching as his daughter kept suckling on it. "You just can't live without churros, can you?"

Marigold wasn't paying attention to her father at all, it seemed the treat was the only thing in her mind at the moment. A few minutes later, she looked up at her father and her grip on the churro softened, one of her little hands gripping on his moustache. Xibalba took the treat from her and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"I did promise you I'd play with you a bit when I woke up, didn't I?" he chuckled, bouncing Marigold softly, making her giggle. But soon he was yelling in surprise and pain when she pulled on his moustache, laughing and giggling wildly. "Nononono! Don't pull papi's moustache!"

When she didn't comply, he tried to release his moustache from her grasp, but to no avail. In a desperate attempt to save his moustache from being plucked off his face, Xibalba tickled his daughter's belly; thankfully it worked, Marigold released her father's moustache and wiggled in his arms, all the while wildly, flapping her wings, kicking and flailing her arms.

"No, papa!" she giggled with crude words. "No!"

Xibalba started giggling with his daughter, now targeting her chin, playing with her tiny fingers and allowing her to touch his cheek. He played with her for the rest of the evening.

But he made sure to keep his moustaches away from her little fingers.


	8. Fever

_The Land of the Remembered was back to its festive nature, but it didn't mean things were the same. Ever since La Muerte's Death, Xibalba became the official ruler, but they had never seen him around after his wife passed away, something of which the majority of spirits was thankful. In his absence, the souls formed a small committee of Elders from the oldest bloodlines to help newly-arrived people find their own clans, and in general took care of La Muerte's duties._

_But at this time of night, a mighty black horse galloping through the streets of the city was making all spirits close their windows and doors shut, in fear of both the horse and its rider. Whatever band that was playing stopped abruptly when they heard thick hooves thwacking against the stone. No one had the heart to inquire about the rider's motives for coming up, in fear of punishment or worse. No one knew that the owner of the black horse was not in the mood for thinking about punishments right now, for he had other things to worry about._

_Xibalba pulled Medianoche's reins abruptly, making the horse stop short and let out a protesting neigh just in the middle of a crossroad leading into different parts of the city. That was one of the few things he actually disliked of the Land of the Remembered; apart that it reminded him of La Muerte endlessly, the city was like a damn labyrinth with many crossroads, paths and streets. For an unexperienced spirit, it took hours or perhaps even days to navigate through the complicated streets of this realm. But time was a luxury the dark god didn't have._

_A whimper caught Xibalba's attention, and he looked down at the bundle of blankets he held in his right arm. Marigold was shivering uncontrollably, letting out whimpers every now and then, her forehead burning hot. Marigold wiggled in her covers, and buried her face into her father's chest._

_"Sh-sh-sh-sh." Xibalba cooed at his daughter with worry as he bounced her gently. "It's okay, mi florecita. You'll be fine, just hold on."_

_Medianoche stomped his hoof and snorted, reminding his master that they had a task at hand. Xibalba looked at the two possible options quickly, struggling to remember which way to go to reach that place, gritting his fangs with every precious second he lost. How long had it been since he last came to the Land of the Remembered? A year and a half? Letting out a snap of frustration, Xibalba led his horse rightwards, galloping at full speed, holding Marigold closer to his chest and tucking his wings closer to his back in an attempt to go faster. He prayed with all his might that he was going in the right direction._

_Medianoche galloped as fast as he could, turning abruptly in tight turns perfectly, in the direction his master led him. Soon, they came to the place Xibalba was so desperate to find._

_The Casa del Clan Sánchez. He recognized it from when La Muerte used to visit the family, and would often drag him along. It was a nice, cozy, big-sized house of red and vibrant colors, with carvings of toros and skulls painted in golden colors. Once more, Xibalba pulled at Medianoche's reins with all his might and stopped short in their tracks just in front of the doors; then he quickly dismounted and checked on his child, now holding her with both arms. She was still shivering, and her temperature seemed to be rising._

_The dark god quickly glided to the doors and knocked the doors with one hand. It took a few minutes for one of the many members of this family to come and open the door, but judging by the speed this member, he could the whole family was asleep. Xibalba grumbled something under his breath as he knocked on the doors once more, louder this time, until he heard footsteps echoing from inside. "Ya voy, ya voy!" He heard one masculine voice, familiar somehow. A few seconds later, the doors were opened by a short old skeleton with a big and thick white moustache and a large sombrero._

_"This better be impor- AY CARAMBA!" he stepped back in fright when he saw the familiar god._

_"Luis Sánchez." Xibalba spoke coldly. "Nice to see you again." His voice was dripping with sarcasm._

_"Que haces tú aquí?!" Luis stepped back in fright. "Don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against you- at all-, but it's three in the morning and-"_

_"Where's Carmen?" Xibalba interrupted him, narrowing his eyes._

_"I'm not telling you anything until you give me an explanation!"_

_"I don't have to explain anything to a mere spirit like you."_

_"Yes you do, considering what you did to my grandson!"_

_Xibalba lost his patience and spread out his wings menacingly, snapping his sharp teeth, making Luis step back in fright once more. Xibalba took advantage of this and glided into the house, ignoring the skeleton´s protests._

_"I won't be asking you again!" Xibalba snapped. "Where is Carmen?!"_

_"She's upstairs! But- OYE!" Luis couldn't do anything as Xibalba flew by him and upstairs, going into each and every room in the house, awakening all members of the Sánchez family as he burst into the rooms in search of Carmen. When he came to the last room, he burst the door open with a flap of his wings and landed inside, just in time to see Carmen jump out of bed with a look of utter shock, followed by her husband Carlos. Of course, this was the first Carlos had seen Xibalba this close, and so he nearly had a heart attack then the spectre god burst in._

_"Qué pasa?!" Carmen shrieked in anger at the god's presence. "What are you doing here?!"_

_"Sorry, Carmen." Luis peeked from the door nervously, the rest of the Sánchez family behind. "I tried to stop him, but-"_

_"I need your help." Xibalba spoke hardly to Carmen, ignoring the rest of the family._

_A sudden sob coming from the bundle in Xibalba's arms caught the Sanchez family's attention; it was followed by loud wailing as Marigold was brought back from her dreams. Carmen took her hands to her mouth in shock as Xibalba bounced his daughter in his arms and tried to shush her._

_"Is that…?" Carmen couldn't believe her eyes._

_"Yes." Xibalba replied quickly, looking down in worry at his child, who now was holding unto one of his fingers tightly. Realizing this was a grave matter, Luis quickly led the rest of the family out of the room. Xibalba gave Carlos a hard glance, and the latter needed no more signs to know the dark god didn't want him there. Once they were alone, Carmen motioned Xibalba to show her the child so she could check up on her; Xibalba kneeled down and held out the bundle of blankets Marigold was wrapped in. Carmen put a hand on the child's forehead, and gasped when she felt her burning hot._

_"She has fever." Xibalba explained gravely. "I don't know what to do, she is almost always asleep, barely eats and her temperature won't go down no matter what I try."_

_"She's got a flu." Carmen concluded. "You should have brought her sooner."_

_"You think it's easy for me to come here after-?!" Xibalba snapped, his voice shaking with worry and anger. But he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. "Just tell me if you can help her or not."_

_"Wait here." Carmen sped to a set of cabinets were she kept some herbs and remedies for her family members in case they caught an illness, she opened the doors and looked for the remedy meant for these cases. Marigold wiggled in her covers and sobbed; she felt horribly cold despite the warmth of her father's arms and the blankets, and her head was aching horribly, her hold on Xibalba's finger became tighter. "Papa…" her little voice, usually filled with joy and playfulness, sounded agonizing._

_"Shhhhh…" Xibalba held his daughter even closer to his chest, stroking Marigold's cheek with his thumb and bouncing her in his arms. "Hang on, mi pequeña. You'll be okay."_

_"Here." Carmen returned to he god's side with a pouch in her hand. "Make her some tea with these herbs. It should make her feel better."_

_Xibalba took the pouch with one hand and held Marigold on the other. "Is that all?"_

_"Don't bundle her up so much. She is shivering, but if you wrap her too much you'll only rise her temperature even more."_

_Xibalba nodded, but as he was about to leave, he glanced back at Carmen with a thankful look. "Gracias."_

_Carmen nodded. "Take good care of her." Xibalba glided out of the room, holding his daughter close, praying with all his might she would make it._

* * *

 

Two hours had passed since.

Xibalba sighed in worry as he squeezed another piece of damp cloth over a small bowl filled with cold water, then placed the cloth on his daughter's forehead. Marigold whimpered and shifted beneath the thin black blanket over her little body. Xibalba removed one of his gloves and touched Marigold's hand; her temperature was still the same. Damn it, what was taking them so long with that tea?! Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Xibalba raised his voice, not leaving his child's side.

The doors were silently pushed open, and two of his servants entered the chambers, one of them holding a green cup of hot tea in his hands, made with the herbs Carmen had given Xibalba.

"What took you so long?!" Xibalba snapped in low voice.

" _Disculpe_ , My Lord. We had a problem with-" one of them tried to explain before Xibalba interrupted him.

"I don't care what happened, just give me the cup, would you?!"

Carefully, the dark god took the cup from the lizard's hands, before sending them out of his chambers. Holding the cup in one hand, Xibalba slid his other hand behind Marigold's back and sat her up a bit, approaching the cup to her lips. "Here, _pequeña_." He whispered gently. However, as soon as the hot, bitter liquid went into her mouth, Marigold immediately spat it back into the cup, crunching up her features from the bitter taste. "Come on, Marigold. It'll make you feel better." He tried and failed to get her to drink it. "I know the taste is not pleasant, but it's for your own good." Xibalba lifted up her chin with his finger to look into her eyes. " _Hazlo por mi, sí_?" Once more, Xibalba lowered the cup to his daughter's lips, but this time he heard a little gulp coming from Marigold's throat.

"That's it. Good girl." He whispered gently.

Since the tea was still hot, he gave it to her little by little to avoid burning her tongue and throat. When the cup was finally empty, Xibalba set it aside on his night table just as Marigold whimpered and wiggled her arms.

"Sh-sh-sh-sh." Xibalba brushed a hair from Marigold's face and carefully lay her down again upon the black pillows, taking her tiny hand in his large ungloved hand. "It's okay, _mi florecita. Aquí estoy_."

"Papa…" Marigold whimpered as she extended out her arms for him. "Papa…"

" _Aquí estoy, bebita_. I'm not leaving you, I promise." Xibalba went unto bed, and stroked Marigold's cheek with his thumb, also fanning her with his wing. Thankfully, her temperature was a bit lower than before, like the tea was already making effect. After a few minutes, Marigold let out a yawn and fell asleep, grasping Xibalba's ungloved finger. After a few minutes, his eyes felt heavy from watching his daughter sleep; he lay his head on the pillows and embraced Marigold with one wing, falling asleep shortly after.

* * *

 

… He woke up when he felt something tugging and pulling on his moustache, and someone touching his cheek; reluctantly opening his eyes, Xibalba found himself staring into Marigold's bright, curious eyes as she pulled on his moustache… Wait, what?!

"Marigold?" Xibalba quickly scooped his daughter in his arms, making her squeal in surprise, and took his hand to her forehead. A great wave of joy and relief overwhelmed him when he felt her temperature was back to normal, and his _pequeñita_ was back to her cheerful, playful self.

"You're okay!" he started butterfly kissing his daughter's cheeks, making her giggle and wiggle around in his hold. " _Estas bien, mi bebita_!"

Just then, Xibalba heard a sound. It sounded like growling, but not animal growling. When he heard the same sound again, Xibalba looked down and placed a hand on his stomach; he felt vibrating when the growling sound echoed once more. Now that he think of it, he hadn't eaten since last night.

"I think I should go get something to eat." The dark god murmured, before hearing the same protesting growls of hunger, but these ones were much more muffled and smaller. His skull pupils now set on Marigold's belly, chuckling when he realized her stomach was also growling. "Looks like you could get something to eat too, Marigold."

"Yay!" she clapped her hands in excitement.

With a fond grin, Xibalba stood up from bed and held up Marigold in his embrace, playing with her fingers as he gently glided out of his chambers. "How about some pancakes?"


	9. Shyness

When she turned three, Xibalba grew worried.

He knew she needed to interact with other children her age to develop her social skills, but none of the souls in his realm fulfilled those requisites. They were either too old, or not enough, never had the soul of a child set a foot in his kingdom. This meant Marigold had no one to play with, other than him, Ponzoña, his servants or hounds. However, the other reason of his worries was Marigold was very attached to him; too much, actually. The child was always clinging to her father, and cried when he was not around, which would make it even more difficult for her to make friends.

Xibalba knew the only place he could take Marigold to interact with other children (spirits, like them) was the Land of the Remembered, as much as he disliked the idea. And maybe it would be a good chance for him to overcome La Muerte's passing, or at least tolerate being in her former domain without breaking down emotionally. Besides, Marigold had the right to know the place where she had been born in. Not only that, the Candlemaker insisted that the dark deity had responsibilities he couldn't avoid anymore.

As the festivities continued in the Land of the Remembered, the souls all parted away from the path temporally when their new King trotted along the stone path on his steed, his daughter and their princess on his lap. Marigold snuggled deeply into her father's embrace, but at the same time her curiosity and awe were standing toe-to-toe with her shyness. This place was so different from the Land of the Forgotten, in every way she could ever imagine. The colors, the music and the noise, the dancing skeletons all around them, the papel picado; it was beautiful, yet unfamiliar, having grown in the silent, tranquil and she could even say depressing Land of the Forgotten.

"It's noisy, papi." Marigold whispered, snuggling deeply into her father's embrace.

"I know, _mi florecita_." Xibalba replied with a small grin, patting Marigold's head. "You'll get used to it."

As they advanced through the street, Marigold examined the skeletons giving them way, others dancing or playing Mariachi, or spending time with their families. They were the complete opposite of her father's servants and subjects. The Forgotten only stood there or wandered aimlessly through the Land of the Forgotten until they turned into ash; on the other hand, the lizard skeletons that served Xibalba, while not so depressed nor miserable, were not cheerful nor fun-loving either, although they did like playing with their master's child when they had free time.

"We're here, Marigold." Xibalba gently shook his daughter's shoulder, bringing her out of her thoughts.

Marigold turned her head around towards the place Xibalba had brought her, she gasped in awe. It was one majestic castle painted of all the colors in the world, adorned with golden paintings, and with confetti and papel picado raining gently down from the sky. Outside the palace, a there were a few spirits waiting outside the heart-shaped great doors, probably for their turn for the Council to attend them. Xibalba felt a squirming in his heart when he returned to the very place where his wife had died, but he had no other choice; he could sense his daughter's mixed feelings about it too.

After dismounting from Medianoche's back, Xibalba lifted Marigold from the saddle and placed her down just as one of the skeletons that worked there came and led his horse away with trembling hands. As soon as her feet touched the ground, Marigold's fingers immediately grasped her father's gloved hand and she stepped closer to him when the awaiting spirits set their curious eyes on her.

"I'm scared, papi."

"Don't worry, Marigold, they won't eat you." Xibalba chuckled in an attempt to make her feel better. "Come. Let's go inside."

Marigold followed her father through the doors and the great, colorful corridor, adorned like all the buildings outside. Xibalba could feel his heart crack as waves of memories returned to him, but he made an effort not to let Marigold notice. Marigold was looking at every corner, every ivory pillar, every colorful painting with wonder, but also with a feeling of dejá vu. She had been here before, but she couldn't remember it clearly. She only had flashes of a feeling of coldness, then screaming and crying, and a kiss on her forehead that soothed her fears.

Xibalba tapped his snake staff on the doors leading to the throne room, opening them, leading his daughter inside. The smell of freshly-baked bread and churros, and carefully-cooked food such as empanadas, tacos, tamales, atole, and many other treats reached Marigold's nose, and she immediately wanted to taste them. There were other spirits present in the room, most of them serving themselves food from the tables, others hanging around and others talking with a group of elder spirits. As soon as they realized who had just entered the room, all the room grew silent with dread. Only one particular spirit had the courage to even approach the dark god. As soon as the woman approached, Marigold immediately hid behind her father's body, clutching at his cloak tightly.

" _Saludos_ , My Lord."

Xibalba nodded at the woman, one hand behind his back, the other clutching his staff. " _Buenos días_ , _señora_ Sánchez."

Carmen glanced at Marigold when the little girl peeked from behind her father's cloak, causing her to try and tuck safely behind him once more, burying her face into his cloak. Immediately her motherly side emerged. "Is that who I think it is?" she chimed, crouching to try and take a look at the little one, but Marigold just tightened her grip on her father.

"Yes, it's little Marigold." Xibalba chuckled silently, before looking down at his daughter. "Marigold, this is Carmen Sánchez. She was a good friend of your mami."

At the mention of her mother, Marigold softened up a bit, but she still tried to hide from Carmen's view.

Xibalba gently bent down and pushed his daughter forward. "Don't worry, _mi florecita_. It'll be okay." However, now she clutched unto his hand.

"Hi, linda." Carmen smiled at her. "You might not remember me, but I was there the day you were born."

Marigold glanced at Carmen for a while, before her grip on her father softened up, and she approached Carmen warily, her wings wrapping around her little body instinctively. " _H-Hola_ …" Marigold stuttered.

"Marigold." Xibalba lay a hand on his daughter' shoulder. "Papi needs to do some work around here. Would you mind spending some time with Carmen?" As he half-expected, she immediately ran to wrap her arms around his legs, burying her face into his cloak once more.

"She doesn't go out that much, does she?" Carmen inquired playfully, although she was already mentally writing her next speech to Xibalba.

Xibalba gave her a small glare, before kneeling down and taking his daughter by the shoulders, lifting her chin with his fingers to look into her eyes. " _Mi florecita, no tengas miedo_. It'll only be for a while, and you may even meet some friends. Can you do that for me?" He felt her trembling, but nevertheless Marigold managed to give her father a nod.

"Okay, papi." She relaxed when her father kissed her forehead lightly, then patted her shoulder.

"Go." Reluctantly, Marigold took Carmen's hand as she was led away from the throne room, looking back at her father while Carmen spoke about some of the most interesting places in the Land of the Remembered.

Xibalba's smile disappeared when his darling child was gone; it was now or never, he had to face his emotional turmoil within his heart before he did anything else. Ignoring the glances of fear coming from the spirits, he glided out of the throne room into one of the halls, then went upstairs, in the direction of his late wife's room. Soon the familiar doors came into view, making his body become stiff, but he let advancing. When the dark god was in front of the doors, his hand trembled as he turned the ivory knob, and pushed the door open.

The room still had her aroma and scent of marigolds and flowers. It seemed that even though their Queen no longer lived, the Remembered still kept her room stainless and intact since the last time she was there, with not a single speck of dust on any of the furniture, the carpets and curtains were dusted, and her bed was perfectly made, the red velvet quilt and the cushions and pillows in place. Xibalba felt his aching heart beating like a drum, almost bursting out of his chest, as he examined the room he hadn't visited in so long.

" _Mi amor_ …" he whispered in sadness, advancing towards the hat stand, where La Muerte's sombrero still lay resting. Its candles were burn-out, it had been three long years ever since the flames vanished forever. Xibalba caressed the sombrero gingerly as if it was a treasure, before he started walking to his deceased wife's bed. The bed in which they had expressed their love countless times, where they had slept in each other's arms for centuries. Xibalba sat down on the bed, placing his staff aside for the moment, and lay down, his wings relaxing unto the soft surface; his gloved hand ran through the quilt and the pillows, recalling how it felt. Xibalba took a sniff to feel La Muerte's perfume still lingering on the bed itself, bringing him memories of her, especially of their last months together, during her pregnancy.

_"Look at you, Balby… You already lost your head over this baby." La Muerte giggled as he continued knitting on her baby's pink shoes. Her belly had grown considerably ever since they found of the pregnancy, eight months ago. She could already feel her little one kicking and moving around inside her, and her heard leapt with joy every time she felt it._

_Xibalba blushed as he approached his wife's bed, holding a small baby rattle shaped like a snake in one of his hands. "I just… thought our baby would like it, you know."_

_"I can't believe you made it when she hasn't even been born yet." La Muerte sighed, placing her knitting needles and her half-made shoes on her night table and lay down on bed, her back against her pillows and her hands on top of her swollen belly. "You're really being hasty, you know."_

_Xibalba smiled as he kneeled down next to La Muerte's bed, and started shaking the rattle on top of her abdomen. "Bebita… Your mami is saying this, but you'll really like it, right?" he spoke to the unborn child, stroking La Muerte's belly carefully._

_La Muerte took a hand to her lips to contain a giggle. "Enough…"_

_Suddenly, both deities felt something. The baby squirmed within its mother's womb, as if reacting to the rattle._

_"Did you…?" Xibalba asked in awe._

_"Sí… She moved." La Muerte smiled._

_"Haha! Ves? I told you she'd like it!" the dark god smirked triumphantly._

_La Muerte rolled her eyes. "Come on, that was just a coincidence."_

_"I don't care what the reason was…" Xibalba kissed his unborn baby, continuing to shake the rattle near his wife's belly. "As long as our baby is happy!"_

_"Balby, what are you going on about…?"_

_"You and I are going to have lots of fun after you're born, sí, bebita?"_

_La Muerte giggled once more. "That's right, after you're born," she placed her hand on top of Xibalba's. "We'll always be together."_

Xibalba sobbed and felt his eyes stinging with tears as he clutched the quilt where his wife used to sleep. The wound in his heart would take more time to heal, but it would, one day. If there was something he had learned, was when to let one's sorrow out, and when to contain it.

* * *

 

 

Marigold looked around the streets of the Land of the Remembered as Carmen led her through them, watching as everyone had fun dancing, playing or simply relaxing. Mariachi bands played everywhere, and merchants sold sweet treats to passing by people. Marigold had warmed up to Carmen, but she still felt uneasy about wandering around without her father. She watched all the spirits around her, and noticed that none of them were black with green, like her father, and all the inhabitants of his realm. Some of them would oddly light up when they passed and waved their hands at her, and Marigold would shyly wave back her little hand.

"Where are the black ones?" she asked Carmen.

Carmen knew instantly what she meant. "Black _Calaveras_ only live below with your papi. Up here you will only find white _Calaveras_."

"Why don't they live in one same place?"

"Well… they're… different."

Marigold didn't yet understand the difference between a Forgotten and a Remembered for she was too young. She examined her hands, and her body, and realized she was also white, very much unlike her father except for the wings.

"Why don't I look like my papi?"

"You took more after your mami, _linda_."

"But where's my mami? I've never seen her."

Carmen stopped in her tracks, so Marigold did the same. So Xibalba hadn't yet told her what happened to her mother, why she was not with them, but could she blame him? After all, it was already painful enough for him to even speak about her at all, she couldn't imagine how painful it would be for him to tell his daughter her mother died giving birth to her. Still, he forbad every single spirit, in both the Land of the Remembered and Forgotten, to mention what had happened to her; he wanted to tell Marigold himself, but couldn't bring himself to.

"I'm not the right person to speak about that topic with you, _linda_." She simply replied, as they continued walking. "If you want to know, you should ask your papi."

Marigold looked down, her wings drooping slightly. "I've tried, but I think he doesn't want to tell me."

Before Carmen could reply, a pair of hands came from behind and covered her eyes.

"Who am I?"

Carmen giggled when she recognized her husband's voice, and turned around to meet Carlos with a kiss. "Where have you been, Carlitos? There's someone I want you to meet."

Marigold had hidden behind the woman's skirt when a man with the black moustache approached from behind and started to tremble. Although she relaxed a bit when it seemed Carmen knew him, she stiffened when Carmen stood aside and gently pushed her a few steps forward.

"Marigold, this is my husband, Carlos."

" _Mucho gusto, señorita_." Carlos bowed down to greet the little one. "

And Carlos, I think you already know Marigold, Xibalba's daughter." Carmen continued.

"The last time I saw her, she was a toddler." Carlos replied, but he felt it wouldn't be wise to mention under what circumstances. "Just look at her, she's just like her mother."

"You knew my mami too?" Marigold inquired with a glimpse of hope.

"For some time, before…" Carlos winced when Carmen elbowed him hard. " _Que_?!"

"Anyway, Marigold, your papi said he wanted you to make some friends." Carmen smiled, placing a skeletal hand on Marigold's shoulder.

" _S-Sí_ …" Marigold trembled at the thought of interacting with more strangers. "Come on, the plaza is just ahead, and there are tons of children you can play with."

Marigold followed Carmen and Carlos towards the plaza. She heard children laughter, along with the mariachi music and the chatter of the adults. Now, Marigold had really wanted to play with some children her own age. But in the Land of the Forgotten there were no children, neither among the Forgotten nor Xibalba's servants. And they were adults, they didn't play the same games as children did. In other words, she had never done interacted socially with other children, and this would make it even harder.

The trio went to a particularly long stretch of the interconnecting plaza, and found other children playing there. Carmen craned her neck, and found some of their mothers and fathers keeping an eye on the children, all the while eating in one of the restaurants. "Now, _linda_ -"

"Uh, Carmen" Carlos motioned his wife to glance behind her, and she found Marigold behind her back, though she wasn't clutching at a fabric, peeking out at the other children.

"Getting cold feet, are we?"

Marigold's feet shuffled along. She mumbled. "They are bigger than me…"

"Don't worry, niña, just imagine you're playing with your father or his servants." Carlos put a reassuring hand on Marigold's shoulder, making her tremble slightly. "I'm sure you'll have no problem in getting some pals."

XXX

"This is going to take a long while." Carlos sighed in low voice.

"Carlos!" Carmen reproached her husband mildly.

"Hey-er, hi- _hola_ , I'm- I am-Marigold-um, Princess Marigold-"

Marigold was hidden behind one of the single trees planted in a circular formation around the plaza, and was busy practicing in whispered words to a flower. She wanted to make a good impression, she'd heard her father before say those were important.

"It's nice-very nice to-" Marigold stopped-and jumped in fright-when a padded ball whizzed by her tree and landed softly in the stretch of grass before her. She picked up the ball. She turned back, the other young skeletons coming towards the tree for their ball. Marigold silently offered it to them. She found the silence became deafening, even with all the music around, when they all froze and didn't say anything, just staring at her. She had never experienced staring before. Marigold got her mouth to work, once her brain remembered.

"HeyI'mMarigoldit'snicetomeetyoucanIplaywithyou?"

Her wings and hands started to feel stiff when the silence kept stretching out. Maybe if she went slower. And more formal. Like her father did wherever he spoke with others, his tone was always serious and cold. "Hello, I am-"

The group of children, who started examining her wings and squealing in curiosity and delight, immediately surrounded her.

" _Qué padre_!" squealed the oldest girl among them, her pigtails running down her back.

"Are those wings real?"

"Why don't I have wings?"

"They're ticklish!"

"Tell me how you got them!"

"Do you fly?"

Carmen and Carlos realized Marigold was trembling in fear and nervousness. "Okay, okay, _niños_ , that's enough." Carlos stated, pulling Marigold away from the other children. "She's new, so be nice to her. She's very shy."

"Hey, I think I've seen wings like those before." A boy with sombrero spoke.

"Lord Xibalba has wings like hers." Other boy commented.

"Hey, you're right-"

"-does it mean they're related-?"

"-I don't think so, she's not scary like him-"

"-she looks more like La Muerte, that's what my mamá says-"

"-but look at her eyes, they're also like his-"

"-hey, are you somehow related to Lord Xibalba?"

Marigold's mouth was dry. "What?" her mouth opened and closed mechanically.

"I asked if you are related to Lord Xibalba, the new King. You know, he was La Muerte's husband when she was alive."

New questions were brewing in Marigold's mind at that comment. Her father had been married to La Muerte…? For the moment, however, she just replied. "He is my papi." Her hands tightening around the other kids' ball.

The girl that had spoken first noticed, and asked. "Could we have our ball back, _por favor_?"

Marigold managed to nod her head, and threw the ball to one of the boys. The other girl in the group felt curiosity about their new companion. "Would you like to play with us?"

A boy in red shirt said. "You could even show us how those wings work."

A girl with braided hair and a flowery dress rushed towards Marigold before she could reach, pushing her a little and shouting, "You're it!" before running off, shrieking happily. Marigold blinked as the other children ran around screaming too, one of them tossing the ball away. Carlos chuckled at Marigold's expression.

"It's called tag. You're supposed to chase after other children and touch one of them." He explained quickly. "When you touch someone, you have to avoid that person until he can touch someone else."

" _Ándale, linda_." Carmen giggled, motioning Marigold to chase after the other children.

"What are you waiting for?" the girl in the flowery dress called out.

Managing to smile a bit, Marigold ran after the children, flapping her wings in excitement.

* * *

 

 

A few hours later, Xibalba was at the gates of the castle, while the servants readied Medianoche. The dark god was waiting for Carmen and his daughter to appear, hoping everything had gone alright. It was the first time Marigold had gone out without him, so he couldn't help but worry.

"My lord." One of the skeletons called out for him. "Your horse is ready."

"But my daughter is not, in case you haven't noticed." Xibalba growled matter-of-factly. "Where is that woman…?"

He was about to send every single guard on duty to search for them when he spotted Carmen and her husband Carlos finally returning to the castle; he quickly grew alarmed when he noticed Carmen was carrying Marigold in her arms, and instantly flew towards her, stopping in front of her and placing a hand on Marigold's forehead.

"Is she okay?! Did something happen?!" he snapped.

"She's fine, she's just sleeping." Carmen rolled her eyes. "She spent the whole afternoon playing tag with other children."

Xibalba felt a great weight being lifted off his shoulders, before taking his daughter from Carmen's embrace and holding her in his arms; Marigold immediately felt her father's familiar embrace and snuggled deeply into her arms, her wings wrapped around her body.

"I trust everything went smoothly?" Xibalba inquired at the pair of spirits before him, brushing a hair from Marigold's face.

"Well, they were a bit taken back when they found she was your daughter, but-" Carlos was interrupted by a smack from his wife on his shoulder. "What did I say?"

"What Carlos means to say, is that she may have found some playmates for the next time you two come over." Carmen explained.

The dark god remained silent, holding Marigold on one arm gingerly as he lifted himself unto Medianoche's saddle, taking the reins of the horse with his free hand, and looking down at Carmen and Carlos one more time, gently kicking his horse's stomach to make him trot away from the castle.

It would take a good while to return to the Land of the Forgotten, so it would be best to let her sleep.


	10. Mami

Marigold made her way through the dark halls of her father's castle with crossed arms. She just couldn't understand why he was so in the defensive when she asked him about her mami. He either changed the subject, or looked for an excuse not to talk about it at all. She just wanted to know where she was. Ever since her first visit to the Land of the Remembered, she had countlessly heard that her father had been married to La Muerte, the former Queen of that place, but he never spoke about it either. Asking other spirits didn't work either, they always avoided that topic for reason she couldn't understand, they simply told her that they were not the right people to tell her about the topic. So this meant that she would have the doubt for the rest of her life?

The four year old came to a great, black door that was miraculously not carved with serpents nor black skulls. She knew this door very well. Xibalba forbad her from going in there, and she couldn't understand why. Her curiosity would always gnaw at her wherever she passed by this door, but up to now she had always contained the urges to sneak inside and see what her father was hiding from her.

Marigold looked around to see if Xibalba or anyone was around, and silently pushed the door open. It was very dark inside, but she nevertheless stepped in, closing the door behind her carefully. She blindly walked down the passage, careful not to trip. She continued like this for a few more seconds before seeing a light ahead. Marigold ran towards the source of light, realizing it was the actual room; when she came to the chamber, she stopped when she saw its contents.

The walls were painted in a bright red outlined with golden shapes, unlike any of the other rooms in the castle. There was a pedestal in the middle of the room, adorned with roses and marigolds, including the little path of Marigold petals that led to it. All around the pedestal there were jars of lilies, roses and many other colorful flowers, overall her namesake flower. The room was lit with candles of soft pink fire, giving the flowers around them pinkish hues. Marigold approached the pedestal in curiosity when she saw what was on top of it.

There was a woman, the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, laying on top of the pedestal with closed eyes, her eyes on top of her chest, a smile in her scarlet lips. She wore a beautiful white dress with marigolds sewn on the collar and the end of the sleeves, as well as marguerites and lilies placed carefully in some places. She had long flowing black hair that nearly reached her knees, carefully combed and adorned with sunflowers, daisies and more lilies. Her eyelids were a dark blue color, contrasting her otherwise colorful appearance, and her beautiful face had golden swirly markings. Red pillows cushioned underneath the woman, as if to make her comfortable.

Marigold felt her brain itching at the sight; she knew this woman, but she didn't know how. Tiptoeing next to the pedestal, she reached out to touch her, but withdrew her hand quickly when she felt a coldness upon the woman's skin. Why was she so attracted to her? Marigold fidgeted with her own strands of black hair that reached her waist, before turning her attention to her little red dress with pink hearts.

Realization hit her.

She remembered where she had seen this woman before, in a portrait on the Land of the Remembered that hung in one of the halls. In that picture she wore a large red sombrero and a matching scarlet dress, but other than that, this was the same woman. This had to be La Muerte. But why did her father keep La Muerte's body in his castle…?

"I see you've found it."

Marigold jumped at the deep and familiar voice. Xibalba walked into the room, his hands behind his back, and approached the pedestal. Marigold wrapped her wings around herself and looked up at him in fear, thinking he would be angry at her, but she was surprised to see his eyes were sad and grief-stricken. Xibalba had gone to La Muerte's sanctuary seeking to be alone for the while and think what he would do about Marigold and her increasing curiosity about her mother, but he was astonished to find his daughter in there. What he had dreaded the most had finally happened.

"Are you mad, papi?" Marigold started to tremble; he had been very serious about the door.

"No, _pequeña_." Xibalba shook his head.

Although she stopped trembling, she couldn't help but as. "Who is she, papi?"

"I…" Xibalba sighed and closed his eyes, feeling the wound in his heart ripping open yet again. "That's La Muerte, your… your mami."

Marigold thought time itself had stopped when those words left her father's lips. Her eyes went open like plates, and she looked back at the woman atop the pedestal. La Muerte was her mother? Why was she in there and not outside with them? Of course, now she understood why everyone in the Land of the Remembered often whispered that she looked more like their former Queen.

"M-Mami…?" Marigold touched her mother's shoulder, but there was no response.

Xibalba placed a comforting hand on his daughter's shoulder. " _Florecita_ , I know this must be hard for you, but-"

"Is she asleep, papi?"

He didn't know what to respond to that. "More or less, my dear."

"When is she waking up?"

That nearly did it.

"She…" The dark god took a deep breath to try and contain his forming tears. "She won't wake up, Marigold." He closed his eyes shut. "She is dead."

Marigold gasped lightly at those words and stepped back, her back coming into contact with her father's cloak. She felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Xibalba had a feeling to what was happening, and he kneeled down to gently take his daughter's shoulders; Marigold reacted by turning around and wrapping her arms around her father's neck, burying her face into his chest. He was caught by surprise, but nevertheless returned the embrace and pulled her close. Xibalba swore he heard her sobbing.

"What happened to her, papi?" Marigold managed to ask between her sobs.

Xibalba felt that question like salt pouring into the wound in his heart, making it even more painful to speak about. But she had the right to know what had happened. "When you were about to come into the world, your mami had… complications."

Marigold pulled away from the embrace and looked up at her father in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You're too young to understand it, Marigold, but the point is…" Xibalba closed his eyes shut. "She died when you were born."

As soon as she heard those words, Marigold burst out in tears. She embraced her father once more, burying her fact into his chest. Xibalba embraced his daughter gently.

"Shhhh… _No llores, mi niña_." Xibalba cooed, stroking Marigold's head softly. But that was easier said than done, when he himself was on the verge of tears.

"So it's my fault she's dead…?" she inquired.

"NO!" Xibalba pulled back and held his daughter by she shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. "Don't ever say that again, _jovencita_!" he couldn't fight back his tears anymore, "you're not to blame for what happened to your mother! No one is! What happened to her wasn't fair, but it happened, as much as it pains us both. That's why we have to stick together, _mi pequeña_ …" Xibalba wiped his daughter's tears with his thumbs, then he embraced her once more. "You're all I have, Marigold. I wouldn't forgive myself nor live with the pain if something happened to you. I lost your mother, I wouldn't bear losing you too…"

By this time, Xibalba himself was sobbing holding tightly unto his precious child. Marigold sniffled and pulled back from her father's embrace for a while, wiping his tears with her smaller fingers and trying to smile a bit.

"Please don't cry, papi, it makes me sad."

Despite the contradictory tears, Xibalba managed to give his daughter a smile as he pulled her close and stood up, holding her in his arms. Both glanced at La Muerte's peaceful state. After a few minutes, Xibalba turned around and, giving his deceased wife one last look for the time being, glided out of the passage.

* * *

 

 

"How was mami like, papi?"

Xibalba had taken his weeping daughter in his arms to his chambers, where he sat on his rocking chair and swayed it with his wings to soothe Marigold down, like when she was a baby. He had to admit, however, that he was caught off guard by the question.

"Your mami was the sweetest person in the whole pantheon." Xibalba replied with a smile. "She had a kind nature and would go out of her way to help those who needed, yet she had the ferocity of a thousand bulls if provoked. Her warm smile could lift up the spirits of anyone close to her, her voice was as sweet as a nightingale's, and her touch was soft and warm." His voice grew sad and longing. " _La amaba mucho_. More than anything. She was my everything, my heart, my light, my best friend."

"Did mami love me?"

"Of course she did, _mi florecita_." Xibalba spoke softly, wiping a lone tear from Marigold's cheek with his thumb. "She was very eager to meet you. When you were inside her tummy, she knitted pink shoes for you. She was certain you'd be a girl."

"I would have liked to meet her…"

Xibalba thought for a moment, before snapping his fingers. Ponzoña slithered down from his usual place at the hat stand and advanced towards his owner, who motioned him to get something from the bookshelves. Ponzoña didn't have to ask what book he wanted.

"What are you doing, papi?" Marigold inquired when Xibalba picked up a red tome from Ponzoña's jaws.

"There's something I'd like you to see." The dark god simply said, placing the album in his lap and opening it for his daughter to see.

Marigold's eyes widened when she saw the pictures in the first page. Two children spirits, one black with matching crow wings, the other white with contrasting black hair. "Who are those?"

"That's your mami and I when we were children." Xibalba chuckled. "At that time we were not even rulers of the realms."

"Can you tell me more, papi?"

Xibalba smiled as he shifted his daughter and the album in hold. "Where should I start?"


	11. Thunder

The lighting and the thunders always sent Marigold scrambling to hide underneath her blankets in her room ever since she was a baby. This storm in particular was very noisy, she could barely see the flashes of lighting coming through her windows from underneath her blankets. Marigold let out sobs every time the thunders resounded through the Land of the Forgotten, wrapping her wings around her body as if they would protect her from the roaring thunders outside. A knock on the door startled her and she retreated further into her covers.

"Marigold?" she heard her father's voice from behind the door. "Are you okay?"

When she didn't reply, Xibalba turned the knob of the door and walked into his daughter's room, closing the door behind him. It was quite spacious, with a few toys scattered there and there near the trunk where she kept them. Dark dray curtains decorated the windows and blocked part of the lightings from going into the room. There were a few bookshelves where he had accommodated her favorite books, and the floor was decorated with a long velvet carpet. The dark red-sheeted bed was the same size as his, since often their wings would stretch out unconsciously and this prevented them from knocking things over.

"Marigold?" Xibalba approached his daughter's bed and sat down, laying his hand close to her. Immediately Marigold's little hand emerged from underneath the sheets, and blindly looked for her father's larger hand. Xibalba gently grasped Marigold's hand. "Come out from under your covers. I want to see your pretty face."

Reluctant and trembling, Marigold crawled from underneath the blankets with teary eyes and wet cheeks, it was clear she had been crying for a good while now. Her black hair was a mess, and her pink pajama was a bit stained with her tears. Xibalba proceeded to wipe away his daughter's tears with his thumbs, but when another thunder roared Marigold instantly dashed forward and wrapped her arms around her father's waist, sobbing uncontrollably.

" _Ya, ya_. Don't worry, _mi florecita_." Xibalba spoke softly, lifting her up and holding her close in an embrace.

"I don't like thunders, papi…" Marigold sobbed, snuggling deeply into her father's embrace.

"I know, sweetie, but these thunders are nothing compared to the thunders in the Land of the Living. Those are really scary."

Marigold sniffled, but when another lighting came through her window followed by the cry of the thunder she buried her face in her father's chest and started to cry once again. Xibalba sighed and wrapped his wings around her to make her feel safer. It seemed like this would be a long night.

"Papi, I'm scared…" Marigold whimpered, shifting in his arms. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

"I have a better idea." Xibalba grinned. "How about I spend the night here with you?"

Marigold looked up at him with a glimpse of hope. "Really?" When he nodded, she rested her head against his chest happily. Xibalba lay her down on a side of the bed, and rested next to her, embracing her with both his arm and his wing. As soon as another thunder resounded through the air, Marigold snuggled deeply into her father's embrace.

"Sh-sh-sh-sh.· Xibalba cooed as he stroked his daughter's cheek gingerly. " _No llores, mi niña. Papi está aquí_."

"They're scary, papi…" Marigold whimpered.

"Don't worry, _mi florecita_. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

Marigold was still trembling in fear and let out cries and whimpers wherever a thunder and a lighting cracked through the sky. Xibalba thought for a moment; he had to drive her attention away from the thunders to calm her down, maybe if he spoke to her about something she would no longer mind them.

"You know, Marigold." He spoke gently, pulling his daughter closer. "Your mother was afraid of thunder too."

As he guessed, that immediately caught Marigold's attention and she looked up at him with glossy eyes. "She was?"

"When we were children she'd always find comfort with me wherever there was a thunderstorm." Xibalba chuckled. "On one occasion, she nearly crushed my bones."

Marigold couldn't help but giggle. "Really?"

"She may have been a refined lady, but she was not helpless. She was a very strong woman. One might have said she was stronger than me; even I can say she was."

Both father and daughter laughed a bit, but Marigold tightened her hold on her father when the thunders clapped once more. Xibalba remembered something that might help his daughter overcome her fear of thunder, or at least help her tolerate it.

"Marigold." He called for her gently.

"What is it, papi?"

"Do you remember your birthday?"

Marigold nodded. Her father had taken her to the Land of the Remembered to spend the day. The Remembered, especially the Sánchez family, threw a huge celebration for her, which culminated in a firework display; Marigold had been startled at first, but then she grew to love the colorful display of lights in the sky. "Yes."

"Do you remember the fireworks?"

"H-hm."

"Imagine the thunders are like fireworks you saw that day. It will help."

Marigold buried her face into his chest once more when the thunders continued their rampage; but she realized the sound of thunder was similar to the sound of fireworks. Every time a thunder unleashed its fury, she thought of it as a firework with swirly colors, such as rosy pink, bright red, sunflower yellow, minty green, sky blue, lavender purple and her favorite, orange, making different shapes, even words. A few minutes later, her trembling ceased and her sobbing stopped, but her grip on her father was still the same.

Xibalba smiled and ruffled his daughter's hair playfully. "Feeling better?"

"I think so, papi." Marigold replied. "But I still can't sleep…"

"Well…" the Lord of the Forgotten thought for a few seconds. "There's a lullaby I can sing to you if you'd like."

"Lullaby?"

"I used to sing it to you when you were a baby, in nights like these. Your mami also sang it to you when you were inside her tummy."

"Would you sing it to me, papi?"

Xibalba stroked her head gingerly with his gloved hand. "You don't need to ask, _mi florecita_." Pulling Marigold closer with his arm and embracing her with his wing, he started to sing.

_Te amo y más_

_De lo que puedes imaginar_

_Te amo además_

_Como nunca nadie jamás lo hará_

_En esta canción va mi corazón_

_Amor mas que amor es el nuestro Y te lo vengo a dar_

Marigold listened carefully to the lyrics; she did remember that song, maybe her father was right after all.

_Te miro y más_

_Y más y más te quiero mirar_

_Te amo y sabras_

_Puro sentimiento y no hay nada mas_

_Y sueño llegar a tu alma tocar_

_Amor mas que amor es el nuestro_

_Y te lo vengo a dar_

Xibalba watched as his daughter's eyes started to shutter, and she yawned widely. It made him recall when she was a baby, and he'd always carry her in his arms and play with her, or when she'd cry wherever he left her in the crib when he had to work. He still couldn't believe how quickly time had passed. One day he changed her diapers (he chuckled mentally upon remembering the first time he changed it on his own), and the next second she already walked around his castle, doing mischief. Just like himself when he was her age.

_Ruego a Dios tenerte a mi lado_

_Y entonces poderte abrazar_

_Si no estas aquí algo falta_

_Yo por ti pelearé hasta el final_

Marigold lay her head against Xibalba's chest, and was calmed by the familiar heart beat. The thunders continued to clap outside, but she paid them no heed anymore. She could imagine her mother singing this song to her, even though she could never hear her voice.

_Y sueño llegar a tu alma tocar_

_Amor mas que amor es el nuestro_

_Y te lo vengo a dar_

Xibalba himself could recall when La Muerte sang this song. He always adored her voice, he always thought not even the singing of Heaven's chorus could ever compare with hers. Xibalba stroked Marigold's cheek with his finger.

_Te amo y más_

_Te amo y sabras que nadie como yo te amara_

_En esta canción yo veo quién soy_

_Amor mas que amor es el mío y lo siento_

_Amor mas que amor es el tuyo y lo siento_

_Amor mas que amor sera el nuestro si tú me lo das._

Marigold looked up at her father with sleepy eyes and a small smile. " _Te quiero, papi_."

Xibalba smiled as he kissed her little head. " _Yo tambien te quiero, mi bebita_."

He watched as Marigold snuggled against his body, and fell asleep, endearing his heart, soothing his pain for La Muerte's absence. Xibalba embraced his child with both wings, to let her know that she would be safe from all harm, both in her dreams and in real life.


	12. First Ride

"Marigold, you'll choke if you keep doing that."

Marigold choked on her _quesadillas_ for a few seconds, her wings flapping instinctively; Xibalba temporally drove his attention away from his _huevos rancheros_ and patted his daughter's back firmly to help her swallow the mouthful.

"There. Better?" he inquired with worry.

"Yeah." Marigold nodded her head, drooping her wings temporally. "I'm sorry, papi." She was just so excited! Her father would teach her how to ride a horse, she wanted to go straight to it as soon as possible!

"You have nothing to apologize for, Marigold." Xibalba ruffled her hair playfully. "Just try not to swallow before you chew."

"It's just I'm excited, papi."

"Yeah, I can see that." Xibalba chuckled, taking a sip of his orange juice. "You're much more excited than your mother was when I first took her for a ride."

"She didn't like riding horses?" Marigold asked incredulously.

Xibalba let out a hearty laugh at her question. "Not on the same horse with me! She said I was too reckless. But she was a proficient rider on her own accord, much more graceful than me. She could make a horse move like a deer, but she lacked my maneuverability. " He chuckled at the last part.

"Do you think I could make a horse move like a deer, papi?"

"Someday you will, _mi florecita_." The dark good chuckled as he refilled his daughter's glass with juice. "But for now, let's just finish eating, okay?"

* * *

 

Although he only had one horse, the stable of Xibalba's castle was very spacious, in part because he wanted his steed to be as comfortable as possible. It was located at the ground level, near the narrow stone bridge that connected the castle with mainland across the lava lake. It was carved out of obsidian, with a box stall made of ebony wood, with warm straw and clear water inside. In that moment, Juárez, the lizard in charge of caring for the horse, was busy tightening the cinchas that kept the saddle in place.

Medianoche was ready for the day. His elegant-looking gear was all colored black with phosphorescent green trimming, like his body. His leather saddle was big enough for his master and another person to sit on, the cinchas were thick and flexible, not too tightened so that the steed wouldn't get angry, but not too loose either. The breast collar was equally thick and had trimmed snakes on it, connected with the front cincha. The saddle blanket was dark green, with a few red swirls.

By the time Juárez was done adjusting the saddle, Xibalba and Marigold were already stepping into the stable. Medianoche perked up his ears upon seeing his master, and snorted in greeting.

"He's ready, My Lord." Juárez bowed his head at his master and stepped away from the horse.

Xibalba nodded his head at his servant. " _Bien_. You may go."

Juárez scrambled away under his master's cold stare, but he hadn't the heart to ignore Marigold's friendly waving, and he waved his hand at her with a small grin. While Xibalba didn't really mind his daughter being friends with the servitude, it didn't mean it didn't bother him when they did that in his presence. Still, he gently tugged his daughter's hand.

"Come on, _mi florecita_."

Medianoche approached his master and extended out his neck, gently pushing him backwards in a playful manner; Xibalba chuckled as he released Marigold's hand to pat his horse's neck. He then lifted his closed hand near Medianoche's mouth and opened up his palm, revealing a sugar cube. The stallion immediately devoured the treat, snorting in delight.

"Hi, Middy." Marigold grinned at the horse and patted his leg.

She didn't say anything yet as her father picked her up and placed her on Medianoche's back, then he climbed unto the saddle and accommodated Marigold on his lap.

" _Lista_?" Xibalba inquired with a grin, taking the reins.

Marigold nodded eagerly. She tightened her grip on the saddle when Xibalba squeezed Medianoche's side with his legs, and the horse galloped out of the stable and across the bridge. The dark god thought that the best place to teach her how to ride was in the outskirts of the Land of the Remembered, where it was a simple desert with no giant, pointy stalactites, pointy rocks nor giant chains.

"Marigold, close your eyes."

"Why?"

" _Confía en mi_."

Marigold didn't near to hear it twice. She buried her face into her father's chest and closed her eyes shut, until her father would tell her otherwise. She heard Medianoche's hooves crunching against the ground, her father's wings extending, and energy cackling. But she did not open her eyes, no sir. The cackling of energy only lasted for a few seconds, before she heard hooves crunching on softer ground.

"You can open your eyes now."

When she did open her eyes, she realized they were no longer in the Land of the Forgotten, but in a desert with a sky of yellow, purple and red, she could spot a few rocks and canyons in the distance.

"Where are we, papi?"

"Halfway between the Land of the Remembered and the Cave of Souls. It's the best place for you to learn, there are no stalagmites nor sharp rocks as much as down there. " Xibalba explained, then offering Medianoche's reins to his daughter. "Here."

"P-Papi…" Marigold gulped, taking the large reins in her small hands.

"Don't tell me you're getting the cold feet!"

"No! I'm just nervous… I think."

Xibalba rolled his eyes with a grin, and dismounted, making Marigold panic.

"Papi, where are you going?!"

"I'm not going anywhere, _mi florecita_ , I'm just going to show you how to control a horse." He accommodated Marigold's legs at Medianoche's sides, and straightened her back. "Always keep your back straight. Do you remember how to make a horse walk?"

"I'm supposed to squeeze his sides with my legs, right?"

Xibalba nodded. "Yes, Behind the girth, but since your legs don't reach there just yet you'll have to do it where your toes reach."

Marigold gently kicked Medianoche's sides with her toes, but he did not move. She tried again, but Medianoche simply snorted. "He won't move, papi."

"If he doesn't respond, you have to squeeze a little harder. But the actual reason he didn't move is because I'm holding him back." Xibalba chuckled, and Marigold realized her father was holding Medianoche's bridle, indeed preventing the horse from moving. "You can't make a horse advance if you don't know how to make him stop."

"I just pull the reins, right?" Marigold inquired.

"Yes, but you can't squeeze him with your legs at the same time, or you'll confuse him. Besides, when making him stop you have to lean back a bit."

"Is that it?"

"For the moment, yes." Xibalba took a few steps back, and came to a halt when he was two meters away from her. "I want you to lead Medianoche towards me, slowly."

Marigold gulped. "What if he starts running?"

"He won't unless you order him to. Trust me, _mi florecita_ , you can do it."

With another gulp, Marigold gently kicked Medianoche's sides with her legs, but this time the horse started to walk towards his master. The little Goddess was all tense and rigid, afraid that she might fall off, but she did pull back the reins when they were in front of her father, making Medianoche stop.

"See? It's not that hard." Xibalba grinned and patted his daughter's back. "And you haven't even galloped yet, that would freak you out."

"Not when you're with me, papi."

With yet another soft laugh, Xibalba approached his daughter and took his hands to his daughter's. "To turn the horse, take your hand to the direction you want to go and squeeze him with your opposite leg."

"If I want to go right, I pull the rein rightwards with my right hand?"

The Lord of the Forgotten nodded. "And you squeeze with your left leg."

"I guess it's the opposite if I want to go left, right?"

"That's right, _mi florecita_." Xibalba stepped back once more. "Now try and walk around in a circle."

Once again, she stiffened as soon as she made Medianoche walk once more, and followed her father's instructions; the horse slowly turned left, letting out snorts every now and then. On one occasion, he even lifted up his hooves in a cantering manner, though she hadn't made him do so. Once she was back at her father's side, Xibalba was smiling proudly.

"That's my girl." He glided upwards with a small flap of his wings and ruffled Marigold's hair playfully. "If you keep doing it like that, it won't be long before I can teach you tricks."

"Tricks? Can horses do tricks like dogs?" Marigold inquired curiously.

"Not exactly like dogs, but yes. I taught Medianoche a few when I was younger."

"Could you show me?"

Xibalba was hesitant to do so when his daughter was on inexperienced, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to show her some tricks. He lifted her off the saddle and placed her on the ground, pulling her back a bit so she wouldn't get hurt. Then he looked towards his horse.

"Medianoche, _siéntate_."

To Marigold's amazement, the steed lowered on his hindquarters and sat down, almost like a dog, and she couldn't contain a giggle. "He looks like a doggie." She hid behind her father when Medianoche gave her an annoyed glance and snorted, standing up.

"Come on, chico, where's your sense of humor?" Xibalba chuckled and patted his horse's rear, but Medianoche swatted his long hairy tail and smacked the back of his master's head, turning around until his rear was facing both Xibalba and Marigold.

"What? You want an apology?" Xibalba chuckled in a teasing tone and crossed his arms. "Is that why you're pouting, big baby boo?"

Marigold laughed when Medianoche neighed in retort and stomped his hoof, not turning around. Xibalba teleported in front of his horse.

"Well, too bad." He turned his back on Medianoche with a playful grin; Marigold noticed he had something in his closed fist. "I was going to give you this." Xibalba lifted his left hand and opened his palm, revealing a pair of sugar cubes. Immediately, Medianoche took steps towards his master and tried to take the sugar cubes from Xibalba's hand, but the trickster god moved his hand away.

"Not so angry now, are you?" Nevertheless, he allowed his horse to take the sugar cubes from his hands.

Marigold approached Medianoche from behind to take a peek, but as soon as Medianoche felt someone behind him he panicked; Xibalba barely had time to move Marigold away from Medianoche's hooves as the horse kicked the air with his massive leg.

"Marigold!" Xibalba mildly reproached his daughter. "Rule number one about horses, never stand behind one!"

"Sorry, papi…" Marigold whispered, then looked towards Medianoche. "Sorry, Middy."

The stallion snorted, accepting her apology.

"Papi, can you show me more tricks?"

Despite the former tension in the air, Xibalba chuckled and patted his daughter's head. "Why not?"


	13. Danger

Marigold made her way through the ashy terrain of her father's kingdom, looking for something to do. Some way to go to the Land of the Living, since her father wouldn't take her, claiming she was yet too young to go. She was six, she was a big girl now! However, she was starting to regret this decision; it was freezing outside, and she hadn't taken a coat nor scarf. She was trying to use her wings to keep herself warm by wrapping them around her body, but it was no use. Perhaps it would be best that she returned home, or she would turn into a popsicle, or even worse; her father would be mad at her.

While she didn't fear Xibalba, for she had never known the darker side of him, she had never liked to make him sad or angry. Mutually, Xibalba hated to see his little one cry or sob; he would never dare to yell, let alone raise his hand against her. No, he knew La Muerte would have never forgiven him if he ever struck their child.

Finally, Marigold couldn't stand the cold anymore, and decided to return home. As she turned around on her heels to go back from where she came, but she found that the path had been blocked by jagged rocks that grew out of sudden. Great, she'd have to find another way back to the castle before she froze to death. Marigold walked through the labyrinth-like realm, watching at the depressing landscape and its gray scale monotony. Definitely, she preferred the Land of the Remembered, it was livelier, more colorful, happier, and it didn't freak her out.

She felt she was going in circles for hours, though only half an hour had actually passed. Her father would be worried-sick about her, she needed to get back as soon as possible. She walked through a small crevice that led who knows where, and when she came out on the other side she nearly had a heart attack. In front of her, there was small crowd of Forgotten, with their characteristic emotionless, depressing faces, and their black and green coloration. Immediately, she started to tremble; she had seen Forgotten before, when her father 'welcomed' them to his realm, but other than that, she didn't really interact with them much. But maybe they knew their way to her father's castle.

"H-Hello?" She called out for them timidly.

No reply, they didn't even turn to look at her. They continued with their moans and sighs of regret and depression.

"Excuse me?" Marigold approached the group fearfully, her wings tightening themselves against her body. "I'm lost and I can't find the way back…"

Nothing yet.

"Hello?" she took one more step forwards, reaching out to touch the nearest Forgotten; but as soon as her fingers touched the black bones, the spirit turned into dust and the remains lost themselves in the air.

Marigold stepped back in fright just was the Forgotten dissolved away into oblivion, calling the attention of the others, but their green eyes set on her.

"H-Hello…" Marigold gulped. "I'm sorry if your friend turned into dust."

They said nothing for a while, until one of them spoke. "Whooo are yoouu?"

"My name is Marigold. What's your name?"

"Naame?" the spirit thought for a few seconds, then minutes, until he spoke again. "I dooon't remember…"

"I'm lost, mister."

"We too." Another Forgotten lamented. "We don't know where we are going, but we just walk around and around…"

"I'm looking for my papi's castle. I can't find it."

"Papi? Castle?" a third Forgotten trembled. "Are you Lord Xibalba's daughter?"

When Marigold gave a positive answer, the spirits looked at one another, before looking back at her. "Our apologies, your highness, but we do not know how to return there. We don't even remember which places we have already passed by." The Forgotten who had spoken first said. "All we can tell you is to be careful."

"Careful?" Marigold gulped. "Careful of what?"

"The monsters that come and torment us endlessly will be here soon. Run, run away now that you can. If they catch you, they'll kill you."

"What monsters?"

Deep animalistic growls echoed in the air, and the Forgotten grew fearful; one of them started shoving Marigold, motioning to run away. "Go now! They're here!"

"But what about you?!" Marigold retorted in worry.

"Go!"

Realizing she had no other choice, Marigold ran away through a stony path, leaving the group of Forgotten behind. Suddenly, the growls turned into roars, and intertwined with agonizing screams of terror echoing through the air once more. But the danger did not end it, for soon she heard the mysterious monsters coming after her. She wished she could fly, but her father had not yet taught her. Marigold dashed through the rough terrain and the pointy jagged rocks, receiving cuts and scraps on her little arms, legs and wings, even one on her cheek. Her sky blue dress was ripped by the sharpness of the rocks, and she even tripped once, scrapping her knees. Marigold bit her lip and felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes, but she nevertheless quickly stood up and continued in her run from the beasts. But they were gaining on her, and licking their chops in delight.

Finally, her legs could go no further and she tripped, falling on her belly unto the hard stone. When she heard the roars of the creatures getting louder, and realizing she wouldn't escape from them in time, Marigold braced herself for the gruesome attack, instinctively crying out. "PAPI, HELP ME!"

She expected the blow, but it never came. Instead, she heard the sound of thunder claps and flapping of wings. But she was too scared to open her eyes.

"GET AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!"

Xibalba landed between Marigold and the Forgotten beasts, his pupils rotated forward, his wings spread and his teeth turned into fangs. Immediately after finding themselves under the demonic fury of their lord, most of the Forgotten beasts ran away into the darkness of the realm once more; the others who were foolish enough to try and attack him paid it dearly. By simply snapping his fingers, Xibalba made jagged rocks sprout form the ground in the blink of an eye, going through the monsters. The beasts wriggled around in pain before becoming still, then turning into dust.

Marigold's little heart was still drumming inside her chest, but she managed to turn around and sit down, wincing at her fresh cuts. As soon as he was certain there were no more dangers, Xibalba's attention centered on his daughter.

"Marigold, are you okay?!" he kneeled down and examined her wounds.

"I… I…" Marigold's eyes were tearing up with fright, but she couldn't move nor speak. "I'm okay…"

Xibalba embraced his daughter tightly, relieved that she was safe and sound, save for the injuries she had obtained while running away. However, he soon turned angry, took his daughter by the shoulders and glared into her eyes. "What were you thinking, Marigold?! They nearly killed you! Why did you run away like that?! Do you have any idea of how worried I was?!" he snapped with sharp teeth.

Marigold couldn't take it anymore. She burst out in tears and wrapped her arms around her father's neck, sobbing uncontrollably, staining his armor with tears and a bit of mucus. Though still angry at her for endangering herself, Xibalba softened up and returned the embrace, pulling Marigold closer to him and stroking her head.

"Shhhhh. It's okay, _pequeña_. _Aquí estoy_."

"I'm scared, papi…" Marigold managed to speak between her sobs, nuzzling against is chest.

"It's all over now. _Estás a salvo, mi niña_." He picked her up and stood up. "But how about we go back home and treat those bruises?"

Marigold nodded. Xibalba spread out his wings and took flight, holding tightly unto his daughter's little body, heading in the direction of his castle. Marigold buried her face into his neck and snuggled deeply into his embrace, feeling safe in his warms. None of the two said anything during the way back to the castle, although for different reasons. Once they were back, Xibalba took Marigold to his chambers, a bowl of cool water and a pile of cloths waiting for them. The dark good placed his daughter on his bed, and started cleaning her wounds from the ash and dust debris she had gotten on her run; Marigold winced slightly at the feeling of cold water stinging gingerly against her wounds.

When he was certain the scrapes were clean of debris, Xibalba picked his daughter up in his arms once more and took her to the bathroom; the bathtub was filled with warm water and soap. Marigold didn't protest as her father removed her torn dress from her and set it aside, but she did wince a bit when he placed her into the bathtub and the soapy water stung her wounds much worse than the cool water. Xibalba proceeded to bathe Marigold, gently rubbing her body with a sponge, cleaning the cuts and bruises as gingerly as he could, wiping off all the dust and ash in his daughter's body and wings. Marigold was waiting for her father to say something, anything, but he was silent and serious, making her fear the worst. What if he was really mad at her? Despite her doubts, she didn't utter a word herself, but she felt relieved at having all of the dirtiness wiped off her body, though she couldn't help but wince at the soap disinfecting her cuts and bruises.

After Marigold was completely clean, Xibalba lifted her from the now murky water and wrapped a towel around her before she started to tremble. He still didn't speak as he dried her gently, dressed her up in her pajamas, and wrapped her in furs and blankets. Cocooned and warm, Marigold snuggled deeply into her father's arms, as Xibalba glided to his rocking chair, and took seat. After a while, Marigold gathered the courage to speak.

"Are you mad, papi?" she whispered, trembling.

"…No." Xibalba finally spoke, although his voice was very serious. "I'm not mad at you, Marigold. I'm just disappointed that you disobeyed me, intentionally. You really had me worried, I was fearing the worst."

"I'm sorry, papi… I just wanted to go outside..."

"May I know what were you thinking? You knew that it was dangerous to roam around, I told you many times not to go beyond the bridge, but you still disobeyed me. I want to know why."

Marigold hesitated to tell him, but the way he was looking at her made her mouth automatically move. "I wanted to go to San Ángel."

There was a small wave of shock on Xibalba's face, but soon he regained his composure. "San Ángel?"

"I wanted to see where you and mami met, but I got lost…"

"Marigold, first of all, San Ángel is in the Land of the Living, way above this place. You would have never gotten there from here. You need my help or the Candlemaker's to get to the Land of the Living."

Marigold started trembling, upon remembering the growls of the Forgotten beasts and the screams of agony from the Forgotten souls as they were devoured. Xibalba pulled her closer upon feeling her shivering.

"It was scary, papi…" Marigold buried her face into her father's chest once again, starting to sob.

"Shhh, _ya_ , _ya_ , _pequeña_." Xibalba cooed as he wiped a tear from Marigold's cheek with his thumb. "I'm here, I won't let anything happen to you."

None of them said anything else for a while, for what seemed like hours. It made Xibalba recall when Marigold was born, when she was a baby, when she completely depended on him. Marigold's sobs eventually grew silent, and she wished she could stay like this forever; she felt this was the most secure place in the whole universe.

"Marigold, I want you to promise me something."

Marigold looked up at her father with still glossy eyes. "What is it, papi?"

Xibalba stared with seriousness into his daughter's eyes. "Promise me you'll never do something like this again."

Marigold could feel her father's grip tightening on her as he said those words. She didn't know what to say, but she didn't like the seriousness in his voice nor his eyes. It would be best to agree to what he asked of her. After what happened, she didn't want to ever set a foot outside, anyway.

"I promise, papi."

"Thank you, _mi florecita_." Xibalba's mood softened up, and he kissed his daughter's cheek softly. "Now you should rest. It has been a long day, and you must be tired, am I right?" he smiled lightly at the last remark.

Marigold nodded, and let out a small yawn, her eyelids heavy, her body suddenly relaxing from being tense for so long. The little goddess closed her eyes and was soon fast asleep; the last thing she felt before drifting off was her father's wings embracing her.


	14. Symphony of the Forgotten

Marigold ran through the halls of the castle, looking for Garra and Colmillo to play with. Those two wolf-like hounds didn't seem to like playing that much, it seemed, or maybe it was because the types of games she liked to play were not of their liking. Marigold searched through the rooms and chambers, wondering where they could have wandered off to. They were not in the main hall, not the kitchen, dining hall, throne room, not even in her father's chambers. She came across another door, but this one was one she had never seen. There were so many rooms in the castle that she didn't really remember at times which ones she had already visited, and which she hadn't.

Maybe Garra and Colmillo were in there.

Marigold pushed the one of the doors open, and found that the room was dark, with little light coming through the windows. As soon as she put a feet inside, candles of green fire lit up on their own accord, startling the little goddess, and revealing the contents of the room.

A great black organ lay at the end of the chamber, a great black velvet carpet leading to it. The organ's pipes were shaped like snakes with open mouths and unsheathed fangs, the keys were made out of obsidian glass, and wax candles were on top of it, some of the wax melted unto it. Marigold approached the organ warily, examining it carefully, the velvet carpet tickling her feet. Once she was in front of the organ, she ran a finger down on one side of it; it was surprisingly impeccable, with not a single spore of dust. Curiosity sparking, Marigold pressed one of the keys, and nearly jumped when the corresponding pipe released the correct tune through the open mouth of the serpent. She pressed another key, and yet another pipe released a different tune.

"What a pretty piano…" Marigold whispered, running her fingers across the keys gingerly.

"Actually, Marigold, that's a pipe organ. There's a difference."

Marigold jumped when she heard her father' voice behind her. Xibalba had the habit to silently sneak up behind his daughter to startle her playfully, so naturally he grinned mischievously when she jumped in surprise, but he caught her in time before she fell against the floor.

Once Marigold was back on her feet, she glanced at the piano-no, pipe organ- once more, before looking up at her father.

"Do you play that pipe organ, papi?"

"I used to." Xibalba replied, glancing at the pipe organ himself, waves of memories returning.

"Why did you stop playing?"

"Well, _mi florecita_ , after you were born I didn't have that much time to play anymore."

"Could you play me something?"

Xibalba looked down at his daughter in surprise. It had been a long time ever since he played the organ, and it hadn't been under the best circumstances. The last time he played was during the two weeks after Marigold's birth, the time he stayed away from her out of grief and sorrow.

"I'm not sure, mi florecita-"

Marigold clutched at his cloak and gave him the 'puppy look'. "Please, papi… Just one."

When she used that look that was it; he couldn't say no.

"If you ask me, _mijita_."

Reluctantly, Xibalba sat down on the bench in front of the organ, and the candles instantly lit up with green flames, as if greeting their master. Marigold climbed unto the bench and sat down next to her father, staring at the organ curiously.

"Any petition?" Xibalba looked down at his daughter with a small grin.

"No, papi. Whatever you want; I don't even know that many songs anyway."

Xibalba chuckled and ruffled Marigold's hair playfully, before turning to the organ once more. What should he play…? There many songs he knew, but most of them were dark and profound, it would bore Marigold out of her wits. Maybe… The only song he knew that wasn't that serious was one he composed himself, for La Muerte for their 528th anniversary.

As he started to play, the pipes let out their corresponding tunes; the song started softly, but as Xibalba's shyness with the keys faded away, the song turned passionate and strong. Closing his eyes, Xibalba immersed himself into the music, trusting his memory and his hands; his fingers swiftly flew over and pressed the keys perfectly, it was like he had never stopped playing at all. Marigold was staring at her father in amazement, and the haunting song was… appealing. It was a beautiful song; she never thought her father could play like this. Xibalba admitted that this activity was very stimulating; after all, ruling over a bunch of Forgotten who did nothing but wander around the realm was not precisely very entertaining. That, and he'd practically poured over virtually every single tome, book and scroll in his library.

The song echoed through the Land of the Forgotten endlessly. Xibalba's servants were surprised to hear their master's organ after so much time, but they knew better than to disturb him when he was playing, even if this was the first time he played for the past six years. They knew it very well. During the time of his exile and estrangement from his dear wife, he played on an almost daily basis to try and soothe his pain, and he lashed out angrily when anyone tried to interrupt him. After they reconciled and learned they would be having a baby, he'd often play for La Muerte and the baby, hoping the infant would grow to like music later on. After La Muerte's death, he returned to playing the pipe organ to soothe his aching and shattered heart for two weeks, before the day he first interacted with his newborn child and she baby girl stole his heart away with her little innocent eyes full of curiosity and sweetness. Since then, he never had time to play the pipe organ.

When the song was coming to an end, it drastically changed back to softness and shyness. When the song was over, Xibalba looked down at his daughter. "Did you like it?"

Marigold nodded her head eagerly. "I loved it, papi! Did you make it?"

"I composed it for your mother for our anniversary. That's the only song I can call 'bright and cheerful', on my terms, at least." He noticed the look on Marigold's face. "Would you like me to play another?"

Marigold couldn't help it, and she nodded her head once more. She wanted to hear more.

Xibalba turned his attention back to the organ, and started to play another song; unlike the previous one, this composition had an eldritch, dark quality intermingled with melancholy. It almost made Marigold cry, it was the saddest song she had ever heard in her entire life.

Outside, Medianoche interrupted his meal an lifted up his head with raised ears upon listening to the familiar sound of his master's pipe organ, though the horse had never actually seen it. Garra and Colmillo came out of their hiding place in Xibalba's library (where Marigold would never think looking for them), and listened intently to the melody, containing the urge to howl. Even the Forgotten scattered around the realm were brought out of their trances by the heart-breaking composition, and glanced at the direction from which the music was coming. As the song went on, it turned darker and darker, making Marigold instinctively embrace her father. She liked the previous song better, this one was sending chills down her spine and making her shiver; Xibalba stopped his playing and looked down at her.

"Would you like me to stop?" he inquired gently, wrapping a wing around Marigold.

When she didn't reply and instead hid her face into his cloak, he took that as a yes.

"That song was scary." She whispered.

"I admit, it's not one of my best works, it just came out of me when…" he stopped in mid-sentence.

"When, papi?"

"It's nothing important, _mi florecita_." Xibalba couldn't bring himself to tell his daughter that he had made that song when La Muerte died and he blamed her death upon her. "Sorry if I scared you."

"Don't worry, papi." Marigold replied, snuggling against her father.

Xibalba smiled down at her and ruffled her hair, and then it struck him. A melody spontaneously started humming in his mind, just for her, for the way she made him feel, how she had brought light into his dark world after he thought he lost everything he held dear. How the wound in his heart for La Muerte's passing soothed its pain wherever said, ' _te quiero, papi_.'

"Marigold, would you mind if I play one more song for you?" he inquired gently. "Don't worry, it's not dark or melancholy as the other."

Marigold thought for a moment, before she nodded her head.

Soon after, Xibalba started to play another song, this one recently made. However, unlike the previous ones played, this one had no signs of strong or dark emotions, this composition was light and soft, almost as gentle as a cooling night breeze. One might even say… hopeful.

_Suddenly you're here_

_Suddenly it starts_

_Can two anxious hearts beat as one?_

_Yesterday I was alone_

_Today you walk beside me_

_Something still unclear_

_Something not yet here has begun_

Marigold looked up in surprise at her father as the words left his lips. Xibalba himself was surprised that he was singing, but he guessed it just came with the melody, so maybe it would be better to let them out. Besides, this may be of the few songs his voice could handle.

_Suddenly the world_

_Seems a different place_

_Somehow full of grace_

_Full of light_

_How was I to know that so much hope was held inside me?_

_What is past is gone,_

_Now we journey on through the night._

_How was I know at last_

_That happiness can come so fast?_

_Trusting me the way you do I'm so afraid of failing you Just a child who cannot know_

_That dangers follows where I go_

_There are shadows everywhere_

_And memories I cannot share…_

Marigold was moved by the song and wondered if her father had made it for mami too. However, soon it became clear the song was directed at her; he was expressing his fatherly love and adoration for her.

_Nevermore alone_

_Nevermore apart_

_You have warmed my heart Like the sun_

_You have brought the gift of life_

_And love, so long denied me._

_Suddenly I see_

_What I could not see_

_Something suddenly_

_Has begun_.

Unfortunately, the song had to come to an end, but the music was still hopeful. Marigold could feel her eyes swelling up with a few tears, but these were not tears of sadness. These were tears of endearment, as she snuggled against her father's body.

" _Te quiero_ , papi."

Xibalba's heart leapt in joy at those words, those wonderful three words that he loved to hear coming from his little one. He gently picked Marigold up in his arms and held her close to his chest, kissing her head softly.

" _Y yo te adoro, mi florecita_."

The Lord of the Forgotten stood up from the bench-the candles of the organ putting off as he did so- and glided out of the room, not before glancing at the instrument one more time.

Maybe he should make time to play a bit more often.


	15. Sweet Tooth

A small shadow slid through the hall of the castle, avoiding any servants that may be around doing their chores. She was close to her destination, and she had to hurry back to her room after she found what she was looking for; it was past her bedtime. When she was in front of the doors of the Dining hall, Marigold pushed the door open as silently as she could. It wasn't that dark, there were a few candles of green fire that lit up, but she was not afraid of the dark; she lived in it, technically.

On top of the table, there was still a basket of mazapan, left behind as a treat by her father's servants in case any visitors (if they ever had any) or anyone living there had a craving. This was Marigold's case, despite having had a piece of chocolate cake after dinner. She just couldn't help it, her sweet tooth was unbearable.

Marigold silently tip-toed towards the long table, making sure once again no one was watching. When she was next to the table, she climbed unto one of the chairs so that she could reach the basket of mazapan. But as just as she reached out to take a mazapan…

"Isn't it a bit late for you to be awake, my dear?"

Marigold jumped, startled, and lost her balance, but a pair of arms caught her before she could fall to the ground. She looked up to meet with her father's amused eyes.

"Well?" Xibalba continued, gently placing his daughter on the ground. "What do you have to say, mi florecita?"

"I just…." Marigold gulped. "I just wanted to taste a bit of mazapan, papi."

Xibalba glanced at the basket of treats in the table, then back at his daughter. "Unless my memory fails me, you ate a piece of cake before going to bed, am I right?"

She nodded, looking down at the ground. "I know, but I can't help it. I had a craving for something sweet, I just couldn't help it."

Marigold thought her father would scold her, but he didn't say anything for a while. After a few seconds, Xibalba chuckled and grabbed a mazapan from the basket, then handed it over to Marigold. The little goddess looked up at him in confusion. "Aren't you angry, papi?"

"No, _pequeña_." Xibalba replied with a small grin, taking a piece of mazapan for himself. "I can't really blame you for having such a sweet tooth; actually, you inherited it from me."

"You? You like candies too?"

"Let's say that being married to your mami, who was made of sweet sugar candy, had something to do with it. But how about you go back to bed, _mijita_? It's very late, and you shouldn't be awake at this hour."

Marigold nodded, but approached her father and clutched at his cloak. "Could you tell me a story, papi? I don't think I will be able to sleep by myself after this."

The dark king thought for a moment, and nodded. "I guess it wouldn't do bad."

Marigold led her father back to her room, both eating their mazapan on the way back. Once they were inside, Xibalba picked his daughter up and carried her to bed; as he tucked her in, he was still thinking on what story he could tell her. Reading her his favorite novels wasn't a good idea, considering all the books he liked to read were dark-themed. He wasn't good at making up stories either, he had always left it to his wife when she lived.

"I can tell you how I found out you got my sweet tooth." He suggested.

Thankfully, Marigold nodded eagerly. Xibalba smiled and sat down at the side of the bed, stroking Marigold's head softly. "You were just a baby, one month old to be exact. That night, you were crying nonstop…"

* * *

 

 

_Four. Days._

_She had been crying for four days in a row. The worst of all? He didn't know why, she was just crying. He tried everything, giving her the bottle, changing her diaper, playing with her, but up to now it had been futile. Xibalba hadn't slept in all this time, and the lack of sleep was starting to catch up to him. He had bags under his eyes, and even his wings seemed to be drooping to the ground, having no strength left to keep them folded up. Still, he wouldn't give up, though he was close to collapsing._

_"Sh-sh-sh-sh." Xibalba cooed at his wailing daughter as he bounced her gently in his arms, cuddling her and wiping her tears with the tip of her blanket. " **Ya** , **ya** , **mi florecita**. What's wrong?"_

_She didn't stop crying, she wiggled violently in her blankets, her wings desperately trying to find a way out._

_"Are you hurt, **pequeña**?" but that couldn't be. He had checked on her two days ago and she had no signs of being injured in any way. Or maybe physically, she wasn't. Perhaps she had taken notice of her mother's absence, and was actually crying out for her. But damn it, he had to think of something to cease her crying before he collapsed from exhaustion. Suddenly he had an idea. More like a desperate measure, actually. _

_Xibalba snapped his fingers, and summoned a little baby rattle with the head of a snake with big eyes, with little pink drawings at the sides, and a green handle. It was crudely made, but intention was what mattered. Xibalba shook the rattle over his daughter's head, and the familiar noise called her attention; her wailing diminished into sobs as she watched the little toy above her._

_"Like it?" Xibalba cooed, smiling down at his daughter with tired eyes. "Papi made it for you when you were inside mami's tummy." Marigold's little hands reached out and got a hold on the rattle. Xibalba mentally let out a sigh of relief, maybe now he could get some sleep-_

_"HEY THERE!"_

_Both Xibalba and Marigold jumped at the Candlemaker's cheerful, booming voice. Frightened by the sudden and loud voice, Marigold started to cry once again, shattering Xibalba's hopes to get some sleep. The dark god turned to look at the Candlemaker with a glare and sharp teeth._

_The Candlemaker cried out in fright at seeing Xibalba's exhausted condition, hiding behind the Book of Life. "Oh my gosh! You look terrible, man!"_

_"Thank you very much! I was about to calm her down, but now I'll have to start all over again!" Xibalba hissed, before looking down at his daughter and bouncing her in his arms. " **Ya no llores** , **mi niña**. Papi **esta aquí**." _

_"What's wrong with her?!" The Candlemaker raised his voice over the crying with covered ears._

_"I don't know! I've tried everything, but I think I'm overlooking something!"_

_"Are you sure you've tried everything?! Dirty diaper?!"_

_" **Sí**!"_

_"Bottle?!"_

_" **Sí**!"_

_"Boredom?!"_

_" **SÍ**!" Xibalba snapped. _

_"Is she hurt?!"_

_"No! I've already checked up on her, she's perfectly fine! Physically, at least!"_

_The Candlemaker approached the dark god warily, and looked down at the wailing infant. Marigold was clutching unto Xibalba's finger with one little hand, the other was clutching the rattle. "How much time has she been like this, man?"_

_"Four days!" Xibalba retorted in dismay. "I haven't been able to sleep in four days!"_

_"How about you take a nap, and I'll look after Mari-goldie for a while?"_

_"Even if I actually agreed to that, her crying wouldn't give me a chance to even close my eyes."_

_The Candlemaker approached his friend and started making funny faces down at the baby, but this only scared her further. The Book of Life swatted the back of its friend's head to make him stop. "What do we do, then?!" The Candlemaker inquired._

_"I don't know!" Xibalba replied. He needed energy. He headed towards his bookshelves and, shifting Marigold to hold her in one arm, he pulled a small book. The bookshelf moved aside, revealing a secret compartment behind it. The compartment was stocked with pan de muerto, mazapan from the Old World, and Brazilian milk chocolate; his favorite sweet treats._

_"Since when do you have that?" The Candlemaker inquired curiously as he saw the dark god take a bar of chocolate. "Did La Muerte know of this?"_

_"No." Xibalba replied simply as he gave the bar a bite. His lips curved up into a grin of ecstasy as he tasted the unique sweetness of the chocolate, which would give him energy for another hour or so._

_Both gods noted that Marigold's wailing had diminished into sobs; Xibalba looked down at his daughter, and noticed that she was waving her little arms, reaching out for the chocolate bar in his hand, but he moved it away from her. "Oh, no. I'm sorry, **mi florecita** , but you're too young to eat this."_

_Marigold's whimpers increased as she persisted and tried to reach out for the chocolate. Xibalba thought for a moment as he watched her; maybe… she couldn't have inherited his sweet tooth, could she? Was that even an inheritable trait? But he couldn't just give her sugar to eat, what if it did bad to her? There had to be something sweet enough to test his theory..._

_"So, what are you going to do now?" the Candlemaker inquired upon noticing the scene. "I mean, if you give her that bar she probably won't sleep for two weeks. Why don't you just add a bit of sugar to her milk?"_

_Milk… Xibalba glanced at the chocolate, then down at his whimpering child. With some difficulty, Xibalba managed to snap his fingers, and the chocolate bar disappeared for a few seconds, before a baby bottle filled with warm milk replaced it; however, the milk was brownish rather than white._

_The Candlemaker noticed this. "Is that chocolate milk?" he inquired, pointing at the bottle._

_"Brazilian chocolate milk, for your information." Xibalba replied, rolling his eyes, before lowering the tip of the bottle to Marigold's lips when she started to sob once again. "Shhhh. **Esta bien** , **mi niña**. Here's something sweet for you."_

_Initially, Marigold moved her head from the bottle, but after a while she latched unto the tip and started suckling; her suckling became faster once she felt the milk was sweeter than usual, and she even let out a few squeals of delight, her little fingers gripping on her father's larger one. Xibalba chuckled softly as he cuddled her up in his embrace and watched her eat._

_"Well, I guess you can handle it." The Candlemaker whispered in low voice, so not to disturb his friend's daughter-again. "I think I'll come by another time."_

_Xibalba so wanted to tell him not to, but he was not in the mood to argue with anyone, so he simply replied with a small nod. The Candlemaker and the Book of Life were soon gone in a flash of light; he barely had time to shield Marigold from the light with his wing. Once he was alone, Xibalba let out a collected sigh of relief; finally some peace and silence after four days of hearing his daughter cry. It didn't take that long before Marigold emptied the bottle; she stuck out her little tongue and wiggled around as she tried to lick the remaining chocolate milk on her lips._

_"Sh-sh-sh." Xibalba cooed her, stroking her cheek gingerly, letting out an amused chuckle when Marigold turned her little head around and tried to suckle on his finger. "Yummy, wasn't it? But how about you close your little eyes so papi can go to sleep?"_

_Coincidentally, Marigold herself was quite tired, after crying nonstop for four days. Marigold let out a small yawn and closed her little eyes, lulled to sleep by her father's heartbeat and breathing. Xibalba smiled, approaching his daughter's cradle and gingerly laying her down, tucking her in warmly, and finally he planted a kiss on her forehead._

_" **Que sueñes con los angelitos**." He whispered to her. _

_Speaking of which… Xibalba glided towards his bed, and collapsed on top of it, his whole body relaxing and his exhaustion finally catching up to him completely. The dark lord soon drifted in a deep, wonderful sleep._

* * *

 

 

"…After four long days, you finally fell asleep; I was so exhausted I slept for a whole day." Xibalba sighed as he recalled the pile of paperwork he had found waiting for him in his desk after that fiasco. "Funny, isn't it?"

No reply.

"Marigold?" Xibalba looked down at his child, and found that she had already fallen asleep; Marigold's little head was resting on her pillows, her long hair pointing out in all directions and a few strands brushing her face.

Xibalba rolled his eyes with an amused grin, and pulled the dark red covers over Marigold's body, brushed the hairs away from her face and kissed her cheek gingerly.

" **Buenas noches** , Marigold." He whispered, standing up and walking up to the door. Xibalba glanced back at his daughter one more time, before walking out and closing the door behind him.

Once she was certain her father was out of earshot, Marigold opened her eyes and took out the last piece of mazapan she had slid out of her father's cloak while he was too immersed in the story, and started eating it silently.


	16. Mischeviousness

" _NIÑOS_!"

The laughter of children echoed in the Land of the Remembered, as a small group of four children (among them a familiar little goddess with black crow wings) ran away from a bakery, carrying pan de muertos in their bag, dodging passing by people along the street. At the doors of the building, an old man with a baker outfit and flour-stained clothing was lifting a closed fist and cursing in Spanish at the children. "I'm going to tell your father!" It was no guess at who of the children that sentenced was directed at.

Marigold giggled as she and her friends quickly ran into one of the alleys to regain their breath. Then they took some of the pan de muerto from the bag and devoured the treat avidly, still laughing over the baker's face.

"The look on his face!" Antonia, the girl with the flowery dress and two braids, giggled.

"Yeah, I can't believe he fell for it so easily!" José, the boy with the sombrero and red shirt laughed.

Marigold remembered her etiquette lessons and first swallowed het mouthful of pan de muerto before speaking. "I just hope he won't really tell papá about it, or he'll be angry."

"Is your papá that bad?" the third boy, Pedro, started trembling.

"No, I love papá very much. But he doesn't like when I get into trouble that much, he says it's not proper for a 'lady'."

"I agree with him on that one!" Antonia puffed out her chest proudly. "Ladies like us should be refined and cultured!"

"You talk much after robbing a bakery with us." Pedro rolled his eyes. He winced when Antonia punched him in the arm.

"So you haven't learned to fly yet, Marigold?" José asked the little goddess, changing the topic.

"No." Marigold shook her head. "Papá says he'll teach me when I'm a little older, and he warned me not to try before it's time."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe he doesn't want me to get hurt."

"I bet flying is really cool." Pedro grinned. "Has your papá taken you flying?"

Marigold sighed in dismay and shook her head once more. "No. He says it's risky."

"Cielos. Not even my papá is that exaggerate!" Antonia pointed out.

"Guys, do you think the stables are open?" José giggled. "We could sneak in and borrow a horse to play racing."

"I guess I could sneak us in." Marigold offered. "The guards don't tell me anything even if the stables are actually closed." When Xibalba took over, he closed off the stables that were previously always open for people to borrow horses; now if anyone wanted to borrow a steed, they had to send a petition that had to be approved by both the Elder Council _and_ Xibalba himself for said person to borrow a horse. This process could take either a few hours, or even days.

"Yay! Let's go!" Antonia chirped happily.

The four friends ran through the streets, dodging older people's feet and tried to hide from sight from the shopkeepers they had often pranked, until they arrived at the castle gates. Just at the right, there were the wooden stables were the skeletal horses were kept. The stablemen were doing their chores when they realized their master's daughter had entered; they bowed their heads humbly, and saw that three friends accompanied her.

"Princess, your father told us not to let anyone in without a signed permission." one of them spoke up.

"Don't worry, Pancho, they're with me." Marigold explained. "We just want to take a look."

"But I still must ask your father if you can bring your friends in here-"

"Could you let us in this time? Pleeeease?" Marigold developed a small 'weapon' over the years, to which her father and herself referred to as the 'puppy look'. She was always using it on people when she wanted something, and it barely failed.

Pancho smiled kindly at the princess. "Well, I don't think he'll get angry if he doesn't know. And, I can't disobey an order from the princess, can I?"

With these words, Pancho walked away from the children and out of the stables to take some more straw for the horses.

"Cool!" the children giggled and ran into the stable, then they started petting some horses.

"Which one should we take out?" Antonia inquired.

"I don't really know, they're all alike." Paco replied. "I wish they were of different colors."

José suddenly spotted Lord Xibalba's black and mighty horse, enjoying a pile of straw. "Hey, guys, how about we take that one?"

Antonia and Pedro glanced at the black horse, and grinned. "Yeah, let's do it." Antonia giggled.

Marigold realized they were talking about Medianoche, and she quickly stood in the way as Medianoche lifted up his head to look what the children intended to do. "I don't think that's a good idea, papá will really be mad at me if I take Medianoche out without his permission."

"If you ask him, you think he'll give you permission?" Antonia inquired.

"No." Marigold sighed sadly. "He taught me how to ride, but he says Medianoche is too spirited for me."

"But he does let you take any other horse, right?" Pedro said.

"Yup."

"Come on, Mari!" José chuckled. "What your papá doesn't know won't hurt him, right?"

"Actually, I think Marigold is right on something." Pedro said.

"My mamá says Lord Xibalba has a nasty temper, and he is not as forgiving as La Muerte was."

"Come on, we are not going to unleash a plague! We're just going to take his horse borrowed for a few hours."

"Guys, why don't we just take any of the other horses? Papá said I-"

"Please, Mari, we'll just take him out for a while, then we bring him back! Your papá will never know, it'll be fine!"

Marigold thought for a moment, before she looked at her friends and nodded with a grin. She approached her father's horse, and didn't tremble as Medianoche stared at her questioningly while she took a bridle, climbed unto a nearby crate and put it on him. "Come on, Middy." She pulled on the reins, but the horse did not move.

"Here, horsey, horsey!" José offered an apple to the stallion, but he was stubborn.

"Do any of you have a sugar cube?" Marigold asked looking back at her friends, trying in vain to make Medianoche move.

"I think I do." Antonia looked into the pockets of her dress and took a small sugar cube out in her palm.

As soon as Medianoche saw the treat in the girl's hand, he moved towards her with raised ears; the children walked out of the stable, Antonia holding out the sugar cube in her open palm, leading the black stallion out of the stables and away from the castle, a few streets away. The passing by people stared in shock at the scene; they knew who that horse belonged to, and wondered what the children were planning to do with him. When they were in the middle of the plaza, Antonia finally allowed Medianoche to take the sugar cube from her hand, shivering at the size of his head.

"Cool!" Pedro patted Medianoche's legs, causing him to snort in annoyance.

"Now we have to get on his back somehow!" José grinned, and went to look for a chair or something to use as a sort of ladder.

"That's definitely not a good idea!" Marigold cried out. "Middy only listens to my papá, he won't obey my commands at all."

"You just have to teach him who is in charge!" Pedro said. "Then it will be a piece of cake!"

Medianoche snorted in annoyance and shook his head. A few seconds later, José was back with a tall chair, so that they could climb unto Medianoche's back. The horse uttered no sound of protest as he felt the children climb unto their back. Marigold was at the front, with next was Pedro, then Antonia and José was at the back.

"Wow, it's really high from up here!" José looked down with awe.

"My legs won't even reach the horse's sides." Antonia added.

"Mine either." Marigold replied. "How about we get down now and return Medianoche to the stables before my papá takes notice he is missing?"

"Or we could ride him all the way back." Pedro suggested. "It's no big difference."

Suddenly, there was a loud sound and a bright flash of color lights a few feet away from them; some children were playing with sparklers and fireworks. Medianoche was not used to sudden outbursts of sound and light like this, and naturally this frightened him; the children screamed as Medianoche reared on his hind legs, letting out a frightened neigh, and galloped through the streets.

The frightened spirits moved out of the way when the black horse was about to run them over; Marigold and her friends clung to Medianoche's hide, trying their best not to fall. Marigold, in particular, was finding this experience very frightening. Her father had been right when he said galloping was very scary for beginners. Medianoche ran to through the marketplace, jumping over stalls and wares or trampling them over, frightened further by the people's screams.

"Make him stop! Make him stop!" Antonia cried.

"This is awesome!" José yelled in excitement.

"Shut up!" Pedro retorted in fright.

Marigold grabbed unto Medianoche's reins and pulled with all her strength her thin arms could muster, but the horse didn't react. He just kept galloping through the streets of the Land of the Remembered, heading in the direction of the castle. Marigold gulped.

"Oh, no."

* * *

 

 

"…And so, My Lord, I'm looking for my family, the Juárez family. I was hoping you could assist me in my search."

Xibalba stared at the man in a farmer outfit and sombrero with a bored expression from his seat at the end of the banquet table, holding a big glass of wine in his left hand. He just couldn't understand how La Muerte hadn't died out of boredom in dealing with these people. He was stuck listening to newly-arrived spirits, who spoke of how they died and what family they belonged to so he could lend them a hand in reuniting them. God in heaven, if he had known from the beginning that ruling this realm was three times the work he had in his own kingdom, he would have stayed down there. Once he was certain the spirit was done speaking, the dark lord replied coldly. "I'll see what I can do, but for the moment go speak with the Elder Council so that they may help you get used to being death, and you know the rest. Next!"

The man quickly scrambled out of the dining hall to meet with the Elder Council; it would be a few minutes until the next new arrival came, so that gave him some time to relax. Xibalba examined the red liquid in his glass before taking a sip, enjoying the bittersweet-sour taste of the drink.

"Is it that hard for you to show some sympathy?"

Xibalba sighed in annoyance and took another gulp of his wine. "You had to come and ruin my few minutes of relief."

Carmen rolled her eyes and crossed her arms at the King's words. "They're confused and scared; one second they were alive, and the next they learn they're dead. How you expect your subjects to like you if you don't try to understand their feelings?"

"Not that I care about that…" Xibalba muttered under his breath. Having ruled a bunch of tortured, and he might even say mindless souls for most of his life had made him insensitive to the heart of other deceased who could actually feel emotions. Their tears of despair nor their pleas never moved him; no, the only ones who could make his dark and shriveled heart feel any positive emotions were his dearly-departed wife La Muerte, and his daughter Marigold. That girl was his pride and joy, and sometimes he might even add, his headache; yet, he found himself cherishing every migraine because it was coming from her.

"My lord, I know this may not be the moment, but I'd like to ask you…" Carmen spoke softly. "How have you been these days?"

"Stressed. Try being both mother and father at the same time while having to oversee two realms and you'll know what I'm talking about-"

"That's not what I mean."

Xibalba said nothing for a few seconds, before he sighed heavily. "It's been hard, okay? Eight years have passed, and I still have not overcome La Muerte's death. Sometimes I still dream that she's sleeping by my side once more… I just thank the heavens that Marigold was too young to remember it." His voice nearly started shaking, but he contained it. "But at the same time, I wish that she had gotten to know her mother, at least for a while… My heart breaks every time she tells me she would have liked to remember her."

Before Carmen could say anything, the doors suddenly slammed open and a guard rushed in looking scared out of his wits. "My Lord, your daughter-!"

Xibalba spat the wine in his mouth and immediately rose from the table in alarm. "Did something happen to her?! Is she okay?!"

"She is fine, My Lord. It's what she is doing I'd like to tell you about…"

He knew where this was going.

"She took your horse and is wreaking havoc through the castle with those friends of hers! They've already destroyed part of the dining hall!"

Xibalba groaned in frustration and rubbed his temples, muttering something under his breath. "That _chamaca_ …" However, the mischievous side of him inside had burst out laughing at the originality of her prank. But his mature side was winning this round.

Soon, the echo of hooves clopping against the marble floor sounded through the halls, calling the attention of all present spirits, including the dark god. He better do something before Marigold ended up unintentionally bringing down the whole castle. Taking two of his gloved fingers to his mouth, Xibalba gave a long and loud whistle; momentarily, the clopping of hooves stopped before becoming louder and louder. Out of sudden, Medianoche galloped into the room with his four passengers still on his back; he stopped short as soon as he crossed the threshold, and the four children were sent flying through the air.

In the blink of an eye, Xibalba stomped his snake staff unto the marble floor, making the children float in the air and down, safely into the ground, but levitating Marigold and placing her at his feet. She gulped and looked up at her father; Xibalba looked down at his daughter with narrowed eyes and a frown, one hand clenching his snake staff, the other behind his back. José, Pedro and Antonia were trembling in fear.

"Hey, papá…" Marigold tried to smile, but she couldn't find it in her fast-beating heart.

"Everyone." Xibalba spoke loudly, his teeth turning into fangs. "Leave us."

Immediately every present spirit in the room left, including Medianoche, not wanting to see what would happen; still, they knew that, as angry as Xibalba could be at his daughter, he would never raise his hand against her, not even yell at her. Once he was certain they were alone, Xibalba snapped his fingers and the doors slammed shut.

"What do you have to say, _jovencita_?" he inquired.

"Sorry?" Marigold laughed nervously, but looked down when her father's expression didn't change.

"I told you that you were not ready to ride Medianoche yet, didn't I?"

" _Sí_ , papá…"

"And yet you disobeyed me. May I know why?"

"Well, my friends… They told me it would only be for a few minutes, we just wanted to play racing, but Medianoche got scared and-" she was surprised when her father bent down and shushed her by placing a finger to her lips.

"Marigold, I understand that you and your friends are just children and you meant no harm. I was quite reckless and mischievous too when I was your age." Xibalba's look softened. "But you have to understand that what you did was not something to be taken lightly. You could have hurt someone, or yourselves, for that matter. While horses are usually harmless, they are also very strong and they can be dangerous when frightened. What would I have done if you got hurt, Marigold? Or what would your friends' parents have done if something happened to their children? Did any of you think of that when you decided to go and race around on my horse?"

Marigold looked down and shook her head. "No, papá…"

"Well, the next time you and your friends want to do something like that, think in the consequences your actions might bring upon others, or yourselves."

"Okay, papá."

Xibalba smiled lightly, kneeling and pulling his daughter into an embrace. "Despite what you did, I'm glad you're not hurt, _mi florecita_." He kissed her cheek. Marigold's body immediately relaxed at her father's warm tone, and returned the embrace, snuggling into his embrace.

" _Te quiero_ , papi."

It was a few seconds before Xibalba whispered into Marigold's ear. "You're still grounded for a week, _jovencita_."


	17. Bonus Chapter: Newborn

**PD: This chapter is Marigold's POV from when she was born, and from part of the first and second chapters.**

* * *

 

Where am I? I am cold, and there are bright lights around me, but I don't know what they are. I don't hear that soothing beating that lulled me to sleep. I started screaming in discomfort and anger; how do I get back in there? It was nice, and warm, and dark in there, I didn't like being here. Suddenly, something restrains my whole body, and I can't move as much as before; I tried to get free, and then I noticed there was something on my back, part of my body, wiggling wherever I tried to move. I didn't know what was going on out here, I want to hear the beating again.

There are others around me, but I can't make out their shapes. I can tell one of them is holding me, but I'm too scared and angry to look at it.

" _Señora_ Carmen… Please, let me see her…"

That voice. I know it, I have heard it before, I don't know from where. The one holding me moved, and I felt a shadow over me.

" _Mi bebé_ …" Suddenly, I felt something, lips, gingerly touching my forehead. I don't know why, but the sensation calmed me and lulled me to sleep. I don't know what is going on, but soon after, the others started to talk.

"My lord…" the one holding me spoke.

"Get out…" another, deeper voice retorted. It sounded sad.

"But my lord, the baby-"

What happened next was scary. "GET OUT!"

That voice was scary. I cry. Where's the one that kissed my forehead? I want that one. I feel the one holding me move quickly and away, but I'm still scared. However, soon I heard the voice of the one holding me.

"Sh-sh-sh. _Esta bien, niña_. Everything will be alright."

I finally open my eyes a bit, and managed to get a glimpse of the one who held me. She had bright eyes in two black pools, and dark hair with a white tuft. Her warm look gave me a sensation of calm; I felt a beating sound coming from her body, but it was not the same I had heard before. Still, it lulled me back to sleep.

When I next awoke, I found myself in another place. I can't still see well, but I barely managed to notice it. I felt eyes upon me, but I couldn't make out the shapes of those who were staring at me.

"Make sure she's well attended." I heard the deep voice from before speaking, but I couldn't see the owner of that voice. "Keep an eye on her at all times, and give her whatever she needs."

"What about you, My Lord? Is there anything you need?"

Suddenly, the air grew tense; I felt fear coming form the one staring at me. I grew afraid too, and started to cry.

"Check on her." the deep voice spoke once more with a feeling of coldness radiating from it, but I could also feel a twinge of sadness in it.

Who was the owner of that voice?

* * *

 

 

I still don't know where I am now, but I can tell I'm not in the same place as before. The colors were now dark, instead of bright and contrasting, and there were almost no sounds. The silence scares me. I cry when the silence becomes too deep, just to hear a sound other than my breathing. When I cry, I can feel creatures pick me up and feed me, and sooth me down, and lull me to sleep. But none of them have the beating sound I want to hear so much. I don't know how much time has passed ever since I arrived, but I think it's scary.

But for now, I just sleep. I'm dreaming about pretty bright colored flowers and a long thing that is often moving around. The long thing approaches me, and tickles my cheek with a thin tongue. The ticklish sensation feels too real, and it brought me out of my dreams. I open my eyes slightly to see who was touching my cheek, and I saw him.

I don't know why, but I feel attracted to him in some way. His body was all dark, nearly blending with the opaque colors all around; his eyes and his neck are a contrasting color, the first bright color I've seen in here. Unlike others I've seen, the two spots in his eyes are colored red, but they are not circles, they have a shape I've never seen before. A white thing hangs from his chin, and two others, those ones thinner and curved prettily, are just under the green mark in his face. His large, long and thin fingers are touching my cheek softly, it almost feels like he doesn't want to touch me at all. He is about to move away; I want him to stay, so I grabbed unto one of his fingers tightly. He pulled it for a while, until he released it from my grasp; I started to cry.

I feel him lifting me up, and hold me close to him; I felt him bouncing me, but I was hungry, and I kept crying. I felt uncomfortable and wiggled, but the thing that restrains my little arms and legs is too tight. Even the things in my back won't stop moving.

"Shhh…." He finally spoke. I feel his fingers removing the wetness in my eyes. "Sh-sh-sh. Don't worry, _pequeña_. Papi's got you now."

Papi? Is that how I should call him? His voice sounds very familiar. I've heard it before. I like him. I stopped crying, but I couldn't stop sobbing; my stomach was growling. I want _lechita_.

"I know I haven't seen you these last days, but I want you to know that I'm here." Papi brushed something ticklish from my face and tickled the tip of my nose; I gurgle in reply to let him know I like it. Papi made a sound that sounded like a soft and low laughter. "There. Are you feeling better, _pequeña_?"

I still sobbed; I want _lechita_! I'm hungry! Papi stared at me for a while; he apparently doesn't understand what I'm trying to tell him. After a while, he made a sound with two of his fingers, and something appeared in his hand. I didn't know what it was, but suddenly I smelt _lechita_ on it; As soon as he approached the thing to my lips, I clung to the tip of it and suckled. I felt the taste of warm lechita, and suckled even more. Papi breathed out and moved towards something. I don't mind, I just want my _lechita_. I feel papi becoming less uncomfortable, it calmed me down.

When I couldn't drink any more lechita, I released the thing from my lips, but suddenly my tummy started aching. I whimper and moved my head to the sides. Papi placed the thing away and bounced me in his arms, but it only made the aching stronger. Papi patted my back softly, just between the things on my back, but now I felt something liquid come up from my tummy, into my throat, and finally I had to open my mouth as the liquid spilled out of me.

" _Maldita sea_!" Papi held me away from his body when the liquid fell unto him. He became angry and looked at me with a frown. "That was uncalled for, _jovencita_!"

He's funny when he's angry. I started to laugh and reached out for him to try and reach the white things on his face. Papi breathed out and held me close again.

"Oh, well, I can't stay mad at you for long, can I?"

He waved one of his long fingers over me, and I reached out to catch it. I feel soft rocking movement that soothed me further.

"You know, you look a bit like your mami." Papi spoke in low voice, I could feel the red spots in his eyes over me, but I am not afraid. "You're like a smaller, chubbier, baldy version of your mami. It's a pity you didn't get to know her, _pequeña_ , you would have adored her as much as I did. I still do, actually." Who is mami? What is papi talking about? Whoever she is, she must be important to papi, because suddenly I felt papi turning sad. Very sad." It's been very hard for papi. Getting used to the idea that he will never be able to kiss her, to embrace her, it's completely unbearable." I noticed papi's eyes were becoming wet. "I just loved your mami so much. She was the sun to my world."

I finally had the white thing hanging off his chin close. What was it made of? I reached out to grab it and tried to pull it, but it was attached to papi's face; he looked down at me curiously for a while, while I tried to pull of the thing from his face. A few seconds later, papi smiled at me, though his eyes were still wet. Once more, his long finger took my hands off the white thing from his chin, and I tried to catch it in revenge. I felt all signs of uncertainty vanish from him, and I felt even more comfortable in his arms.

"You're a tiny bit of mami, _pequeña_ , and for that you're very special to papi. I promise you, I will always be there for you, no matter what."

Papi leaned down and his lips peppered my forehead; it tickles, and it made me giggle. I lay my head against his body, and suddenly I heard a beating sound. It was not the same beating I wanted to hear, but it was almost the same. I'm so tired… My eyes closed as I felt the beating sound. Papi moved, and he placed me back where I was; he warmed me up with even more of the things used to restrain me. Then I felt his lips on my forehead one more time.

" _Dulces sueños_ …" I felt his fingers touching my cheek gently, I shifted a bit under his tender touch. "… _Mi pequeña_ Marigold."

Marigold? Who is that? Is he talking to me? Is that my name? It must be, if papi is calling me like that.

But for now, I just want to sleep.


	18. Malicious Cycle

_"N-No… No please… Father…"_

**_SLAP!_ **

_"SHUT UP!"_

_Xibalba trembled and cowered under his father's abusive shadow, his wings wrapping around himself to try in vain to protect himself from his father's hits. The Dark King, Akinork, the skeletal dragon, towered over his eight year old son, his claws unsheathed._

_"Finish it off, my son!" the dragon hissed with gnashing teeth. "Show your power! Show that you are worthy of being my successor!"_

_Tears streamed down Xibalba's face like rivers, and he tried to crawl away from his father, but cried out in pain when Akinork grabbed him by the wings harshly. "Come here!"_

_In front of them was a Forgotten, or what was left of it, after the Dark Lord tore it apart. It pitifully tried to crawl away from its Lord, but it wouldn't go far before it would turn into ash, and another would take its place._

_"You're a God, you don't have to feel pity for this disgusting soul who is nothing more than a forgotten wretch! So low that not even its relatives bother to bear one single memory of it!" Akinork snapped, tightening his grip on his son's wings, making him wince and sob in pain. "These souls are not worth existing! Remember, Xibalba…" The dragon hissed dangerously, narrowing his red eyes at the child. "You're my son! You are the devil!"_

_"N-No… No…" Xibalba sobbed, in vain attempting to free his wings from his father's grips, but he felt Akinork's grip on his wings tightening it to the point of almost breaking them…_

* * *

 

 

"…NOOOO!"

Xibalba woke up in cold sweat, tears streaming down his cheeks, his heart nearly bursting out of his chest. When he realized he was back in the real world, the dark god closed his eyes and took a skeletal hand to his forehead, slowly breathing in and out to calm himself down. "It was just a nightmare…" His father… he had that dream again. But this time, La Muerte wasn't here to comfort him, to tell him everything would be alright.

Xibalba stood from bed and headed towards the mirror in his room. Taking the hem of his long-sleeved silk shirt, Xibalba pulled it up and took off the shirt, revealing numerous long scars on his back. He took a hand behind his back and touched one of them, wincing as if it was still fresh; just looking at those scars brought him very painful memories, both physical and psychological. Nobody knew he had them, only La Muerte did until her death. She had been his comfort in his darkest moments.

Xibalba didn't even want to think about his father, nor the way he was hurt by the dark dragon King. He didn't remember much of his mother, he was only told that she died when he was too young to remember, and yet his father's degrading way of speaking about her made him wonder if he hadn't murdered her in one of his famous fits of rage. Xibalba was glad that the dark dragon was gone forever.

" _That's what you think…_ "

Xibalba froze when he heard that familiar voice he dreaded so much as a child. But he was not a child anymore. Tightening his fists, he looked around his chambers looking for the owner of the voice. "Come here and face me, _cobarde_!"

" _With great pleasure…_ "

Xibalba turned around and came face to face with his father, Lord Akrinok, the former ruler of the Land of the Forgotten. However, he had a spectral aura to him, as if he was nothing more than a ghost of the past Xibalba wanted to forget so much. His black bones, and leathery wings, and ivory horns were still the same, if not corroded by time to some extent.

"No, it's…" Xibalba couldn't help but take a step back. "It's impossible!"

" _Hehehe_ …" Akrinok chuckled darkly. " _Sorprendido de verme_?"

The apparition stunned him, but nevertheless Xibalba grit his fangs and fists. "What are you doing here, father?" he spat the last word with spite and bitterness.

"Nothing, really. I just wanted to take a peek at my _nieta_."

"Don't you dare call her like that!"

"Qué? It's the truth, it's a pity I didn't get to live to see her being born… Too bad I didn't get to see how that _puta_ you chose for a wife die bringing her to the world-"

Akrinok couldn't finish the sentence, for he was sent flying against the wall; however, since he was not a physical being the bookshelves remained unaffected. Xibalba flew and grabbed his father's throat, making him choke. His wings were outstretched, his pupils rotated forward, his teeth turned into fangs.

"Do not dare to refer to La Muerte like that, _hijo de_ -!"

Xibalba was interrupted when his father's wail caught him from behind by the waist, but it did not stop there. The tail bound Xibalba's arms behind his back and wrapped around his wings and mouth, preventing him from making a sound. The dark god let out muffled curses and growls as he wiggled to get free from his father's grip.

"Now, now, Xibalba. I thought children were supposed to respect their fathers." Akrinok hissed into his son's ears. "Or do I have to remind you again?"

The tip of his claw ran down the scars on Xibalba's back, making him tremble at the memory. The hits, the yells, the mistreatments, the sound of a whip echoing throughout the realm, everything returned to him in a flash.

"Too bad you had to set your eyes on that woman, _hijo_." Akrinok continued to taunt Xibalba cruelly. "Of all the Goddesses and spirits in the pantheon, you had to fall for that _putita_. The _putita_ who had you wrapped around her finger, though I shouldn't be surprised that a mere woman could domineer you. You were always weak."

Xibalba wiggled to get free from the dragon's grip, but it was no use.

"However, I must say, the girl you engendered is quite… how to name it? I can tell she will grow into an attractive young woman. Marigold is her name, right? She had to take more after her mother the _puta_ …" Akrinok sighed.

Xibalba's blood started to boil at those words, but he could not speak.

"I must say, Xibalba, I'm disappointed in your methods to raise her. You could have done a better job if you had an iron fist, just like me." Akrinok's tail started tightening its grip on Xibalba, squeezing him more and more. "Maybe a good beating would do-!"

Suddenly, Akrinok yelled in pain when he felt fangs digging into his flesh. Looking down, he spotted a purple two headed snake had bitten him; Xibalba took advantage of his father's distraction, and dug his own teeth into his tail. Akrinok yelled in pain once more, and could do nothing as Xibalba freed himself from his grip and pinned him to the ground by the throat with his hand.

"I'm not like you!" Xibalba hissed, his whole body radiating the fury of a demon. "I will never be like you! I will never lay a hand on my daughter, because I actually love her! And that's a feeling you'll never know!"

Akrinok choked, but he managed to give his son a cruel smile. "Just watch, Xibalba. You don't want to accept it, but you're still my flesh and blood. Sooner or later, be it tomorrow or in a hundred years, you will become like me." He then started to laugh.

"SHUT UP!"

Xibalba couldn't contain his rage any longer, and smashed his father against the mirror, shattering into fragments, the spirit letting out a blood-chilling scream before vanishing into thin air. The mirror had turned into tiny fragments, cracks on the remaining pieces. Xibalba withdrew his hand when he felt the sharp pain in it, and saw drops of black blood streaming down his hand and unto the floor. A hiss from behind him caught his attention, and he turned around to see Ponzoña slithering to him and rubbing its two heads against his cloak, worried for him.

"It's alright, Ponzoña, I'm okay…" Xibalba softly spoke, bowing down to pet Ponzoña's head with his uninjured hand, but wincing at his other hand.

Xibalba looked at his broken mirror for a while, before he headed for his bathroom. Once there, Xibalba washed his cut hand and then disinfected it with alcohol (gritting his teeth in pain in this part); once he was done, he wrapped it in bandages to stop the bleeding. The dark god glided out of his bathroom and donned his black shirt once more, not wanting to see the scars any longer. He glided out of his chambers, and through his dimly illuminated halls, making his way peacefully to his daughter's room.

* * *

 

 

She was deeply asleep when he went in, curled up into a ball, her wings hugging her body. Xibalba approached the bed as silently as he could, not wanting to wake Marigold up, and gingerly sat down on top of it, a few inches away from Marigold. He lay down next to her and watched her sleep for a good while; He was quite jealous that she could sleep so peacefully, she had no reason to be afraid. Suddenly, Marigold stirred in her sleep and let out a sob, the feathers of her wings twitching slightly.

"Shhhh…" Xibalba cooed silently at her, pulling up her sheet to cover her, and brushing a hair from her face. "Sh-sh-sh." Deep down, Xibalba wished his father had at least given him a comforting hug when he had a nightmare, or spent some time with him, but no. Akrinok was never the best father, all the Gods in the pantheon knew that, and felt sorry for his beaten, emotionally abused son. He recalled all his lonely nights, crying himself to sleep when his father wouldn't even come to give him good night.

"Do you know why you sleep so peacefully, _mi florecita_?" Xibalba whispered at his daughter, stroking her cheek as gingerly as he could without waking her up. "Because you know you're loved."

His voice was forlorn as he spoke, still thinking on his father's words. Would he be capable of raising his hand against Marigold…? NO! What was he thinking? There was no way in any realm he would ever hit his pequeña, it would be like hitting La Muerte herself, and that was something he would have never done either. He was not like his father, he was not!

"Papá?"

Xibalba was brought back to reality when he heard his daughter's voice. Marigold had stirred awake, and was looking up at her father with sleepy eyes.

"Is something wrong, _mi florecita_?" Xibalba inquired, his bandaged hand on her shoulder.

Marigold noticed the bandage in her father's hand. "Are you hurt, papá? Did something happen to your hand?"

"It's nothing, Marigold, I just had a little accident with the mirror."

"Are you okay?"

"It's just a scratch, sweetie, I will be fine."

Marigold accepted the answer, and shifted beneath her covers. Xibalba stroked her head, but suddenly she flinched as soon as he touched her.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

"It's nothing, papá…"

"You can tell me, Marigold. I won't get mad."

"Well, I…" Marigold hesitated, but finally she decided to tell him. "I had a bad dream. You were there…" she started trembling.

"What happened then?" Xibalba inquired in curiosity.

"You were hitting me."

Xibalba's heart shrank and nearly stopped. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. Yet, he had a hunch to why she had dreamed of such a thing.

"I asked you to stop, but you were laughing everytime I cried. I was scared…" Marigold started to sob and tremble. "Would you ever hit me…?"

"No!" Xibalba replied gently but firmly, taking his daughter's hand in his own. "I don't want you to ever think I would raise a hand against you, _pequeña_. You're my everything, _mi bebé_ , _mi luz_ , I would never lay a hand on you."

Marigold shifted around on the bed and hugged her father tightly, burying her face into his chest. Xibalba smiled and returned the embrace, holding her closer with his wings and arms. Marigold's sniffles eventually diminished.

"Would you like anything to drink, Marigold?" Xibalba inquired, looking down at her. "Some hot chocolate, perhaps?"

Marigold shook her head and snuggled deeply into his arms. "No thank you, papá… But… Could you stay with me for a while?"

"Sure, sweetie."

For a few minutes, neither father nor daughter said anything. However, when the silence became too uncomfortable, Marigold broke it with a question she had been wanting to ask her father. "Papá?"

"What is it, sweetie?"

"How was my grandfather like?"

Xibalba's smile vanished. That was a question he wasn't expecting. What could he tell her when he had nothing good to say about his father? Naturally, he tried to avoid the question. "Why do you want to know?"

"When Pedro invited me to his home and introduced me to his family, his grandfather took us to the parade. Pedro asked me if I had a grandfather, and I told him I'd ask you."

"Well… You did have a grandfather, mi florecita, but… He passed away when I was a fifteen."

"How did he die?"

While Gods never died of old age, they could die of violence with weapons made by other gods, or as in La Muerte's case, at childbirth. The former had been Akrinok's case, when his long years of earning enemies among the other Gods had finally caught up to him, and he was killed during a duel.

"He fought with somebody, and didn't make it."

"Did you love him?"

"I…" Xibalba thought for a moment, before sighing. "Yes, I did." He didn't have the courage to tell her of his rather… unpleasant relationship with his father.

Marigold said nothing more. She let out a yawn and fell asleep soon after, snuggling deeply into her father's protective embrace. Xibalba bent down his neck and planted a small kiss on her head.

" _Dulces sueños_ , Marigold." He whispered, cocooning Marigold with his wings.

Once more, he watched her sleep peacefully, safe and warm in his arms. When she smiled in her sleep and her feathers twitched, Xibalba smiled slightly too. When he was certain Marigold was fast asleep, he gently slid off her hold and her bed, once again pulling the sheets over her, and walked towards the door. Before going out, he looked back at his daughter one more time.

He would not be like his father.

Never.


	19. First Flight

"Marigold?"

Xibalba opened the door to his daughter's room and found her still in bed. Though she heard her father's voice, she only shifted and tried to retreat further into her covers. Xibalba chuckled as he glided towards her window and slid the curtains to the side, letting some light filter into the room. "It's time to wake up, _mi florecita_!"

Marigold groaned and buried her face into her pillow. "Five more minutes, papi…"

"Come on, Marigold. You didn't stop talking about this, and now you don't want to wake up?" Xibalba snickered as he approached the bed and shook Marigold's shoulder gently. "The earlier, the better, _mijita_!" he chimed, playfully removing her covers from her, but she wrapped her wings around herself.

"Papá, it's Saturday…" she moaned.

"Marigold, if you don't get out of bed right now, I'll be forced to use the 'secret weapon'."

The ten-year old girl wrapped her wings more tightly around her body, trying to block out the light coming from the window. She felt her father's shadow towering over her, however. "Let me sleep, papi."

Xibalba grinned mischievously. "Don't say I didn't warn you!"

Marigold couldn't do anything as her father's long and thin fingers attacked her, tickling her sides playfully. She started laughing and wiggled in bed as she tried to push his hands away. "No, papi, no!" she giggled hysterically, her wings flapping.

"Hahaha!" Xibalba laughed along with his daughter. "I'm the tickle monster!"

He continued tickling Marigold's sides for a while, until he let her take air. Marigold sat up, and looked up at her father with still half-sleepy eyes. "Why did you have to wake me up so early in Saturday, papá?"

"Did you forget, _mijita_?" the dark god chuckled as he sat down next to Marigold and brushed her hairs away from her face. "I still have to give you your birthday present, remember?"

The little goddess's eyes widened in awe and there was a glint of hope in her eyes. "Do you mean…?"

Xibalba nodded. "I'm going to teach you how to fly."

Marigold squealed in delight and excitement as she lunged forward and embraced her father tightly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"You can thank me later, _mi florecita_. Let's go have breakfast first, you can't fly with an empty stomach."

"But I'm not hungry." Her stomach growled, making Marigold blush deeply. "Well, maybe I am. A bit."

Xibalba laughed softly as he ruffled Marigold's hair playfully. "Don't worry, Marigold. We have all the time in the world, there's no reason to rush it."

"Sorry, papá, it's just I'm excited."

"That's okay, mi florecita. Actually, I was equally excited when I learned how to fly. I just want you to be well-prepared."

When Xibalba's stomach started to growl, Marigold giggled. "I'm not the only one who's hungry, papá."

"I admit it." The dark god chuckled. "I'm hungry too. But don't worry, _cariño_ , I'll wait for you in the Dining hall for breakfast. Then we'll start your lessons." He looked down at his daughter's pajamas. "But first get changed, sweetie."

"Papá, I can't get changed if you're in here!" Marigold protested, covering her body with her wings.

"Come on, Marigold! I've seen you naked countless times ever since you were a baby!" Xibalba chuckled, but Marigold grabbed one of her pillows and tried to hide behind it.

"Papá!"

"Okay, okay, okay!" Xibalba stood up and headed towards the door. But before going out, he took a peek at his daughter with a playful glint on his eyes. "By the way, _mi florecita_ , did I mention you have a birthmark shaped like a flower on your left buttock?"

"PAPÁ!"

Xibalba closed the door just in time just to avoid being struck at the face by a pillow.

* * *

 

After breakfast, Xibalba took his daughter to his chambers, and taught her the basics of flight. Most of all, he showed her how to flap her wings properly, and in synchrony with each other. Because she was not used to flapping her wings that much, Marigold felt them aching when she flapped them for a prolonged period.

"They're aching, papá." She whined, stopping her wings after ten seconds.

"It's normal, _cariño_. It's because your wings are not used to lifting your weight." Xibalba replied softly, patting Marigold's back gently. "It will stop in a few days, or hours, it depends on how much you can endure."

"But are we going to fly, papá? I've been flapping my wings all day!"

"Well, _mi florecita_ , you have to learn to walk before you learn to run, right?" Xibalba placed Marigold on top of his bed, and bent down to catch her in case she didn't make it the first time. "Try to stay in the air for a few seconds. Don't worry, I'll catch you if you fall."

It wasn't that high, it was just her father's bed, but Marigold still wore a pink helmet, just in case. Closing her eyes shut nervously, Marigold leapt off the bed and flapped her wings (and waved her arms) in a rapid succession, but it did no good and she fell on her father's arms safely.

"Try not to flap your wings so quickly, Marigold." Xibalba told his daughter gently as he placed her back on top of the bed. "You'll get tired, and it doesn't hold you up. Try flapping them a bit more slowly."

Marigold gulped, but she managed to nod her head. She leapt off the bed once more, and started flapping her wings, calmly this time, like her father showed her a few minutes ago. She managed to stay on the air for about ten seconds before her wings grew tired and she dropped to her father's arms once more.

Marigold looked up at her father. "How did I do it, papi?"

"You did well, Marigold." Xibalba grinned at her, placing her yet again on top of his bed. "Just try to hang up there a bit more."

Marigold took a deep breath, and leapt off the bed a third time. She started flapping her wings as soon as her feet left the edge of the bed, closing her eyes shut once more. Seconds passed, and her feet still didn't touch the ground, sparking her curiosity; Marigold opened an eye, and realized that she was hovering over the ground, and surprisingly she was gaining height.

Xibalba watched in pride and amazement as his child started flying around clumsily, still struggling to flap her wings in sync. "That's it, Marigold!" he cried out in excitement. "You got it, _mi florecita_!"

"Look at me, papi!" Marigold retorted in excitement, flying around in circles over her father.

Xibalba flapped his wings and joined his daughter in the air, flying around his chambers with her, the both of them laughing in delight. He caught his daughter and helped her regain her balance when she was about to fall off, then the two continued to fly around. After five minutes, Marigold grew tired and her wings and back started to ache; Xibalba noticed this, and he gently took her in his arms when she stopped flapping her wings. He glided back to the ground slowly and sat down on his rocking chair.

"Tired?" he inquired playfully, accommodating Marigold in his arms so that her wings were outstretched.

"Si, papá. Aren't you?"

"I may be way older, sweetie, but I have more experience and I'm more used to flying. But don't worry, you'll get less tired the more you fly."

"Did mamá like flying?"

"Well, since she had no wings she couldn't fly as much as me, but I did take her for a ride sometimes." Xibalba chuckled at this. "There was one time I took her when she was pregnant with you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm glad you didn't hear the yelling she gave me for that; she was afraid that something could have happened to you. Actually, she sent me to sleep to the sofa that night." He snickered upon remembering it.

Marigold winced at her aching wings, and snuggled deeply into her father's embrace. "My wings hurt, papá…"

Xibalba started rubbing his daughter's wing bone tenderly, easing the muscles and the knots. "Are you feeling better, pequeña?"

"H-hm." Marigold replied, resting her head against his chest plate.

After a while, the aching in her wings and back diminished and eventually disappeared. For a while, none of them said anything, until Xibalba broke the silence.

"You think you're ready to fly from a high place, Marigold?" he inquired.

Marigold looked up at her father. "How high, papá?"

Xibalba thought for a moment, before grinning. He knew the perfect place. "It's a surprise, but…" he grew serious once again. "Do you think you are ready to fly from a high place, or would you rather practice a little more first?"

Marigold thought for a moment at the options. While she was eager and wanted to learn to fly like her father, flying from a very high place was dangerous; sure, her father would always catch her when she fell, but it didn't mean it wasn't dangerous. Maybe her father was right, and it would be best to practice a bit before trying to soar.

"I think I want to practice a bit, papá." She said.

" _Está bien, mi florecita_. Would you like to keep practicing, or are you tired?"

"I'm okay, papá. I just need to rest my wings a bit." Marigold shifted in her father's arms, and tucked her wings close to he body for a while, waiting until the aching disappeared. A few minutes later, the little goddess looked up at her father.

"Can we have a race, papá?"

Xibalba chuckled and ruffled Marigold's hair. "What did I say about learning to walk before learning to run, sweetie?"

* * *

 

Two weeks later, Marigold found herself at the top of the highest tower in the Land of the Remembered, more specifically the tower of La Muerte's former chambers. Her father was holding her hand, squeezing it reassuringly when he felt his daughter starting to tremble. The whole city could be seen from up here, all the lights, the colorful streams of papel picado running through the sky like rivers, the sound of music reaching their ears.

Marigold couldn't take it any longer, and she hugged her father tightly, burying her face into his cloak. "I'm scared, papá."

"There's nothing to be afraid of, _mi florecita_." Xibalba smiled reassuringly, kneeling down and taking her by the shoulders gently. "When I was your age I wouldn't have even dared to look down, but I knew my wings would not fail me. Whoever has wings is not afraid of heights, or of any obstacle they may find. If you have wings, there's nothing that can stop you!"

"But what if I fall, and I can't fly…? What if I crash against the ground-?" Marigold was interrupted when Xibalba silenced her by placing a finger on her lips.

"You won't. I know you can do it. Always remember this, _mi pequeña_. _Solo vuela el que se atreve a hacerlo._ "

Marigold looked down from the edge, and her stomach flipped once more. But she gathered all the courage in her little body and turned to her father. "Will you catch me if I fall?"

Xibalba nodded. "Of course I will, _mi florecita_."

"You promise?"

" _Te lo prometo._ " Xibalba kissed his daughter's forehead. "Are you ready?"

Marigold gulped for about the fifth time, but nevertheless she nodded. " _Sí_ , papá."

She watched as her father took off with a flap of his wings and flew down a few meters down the chasm full of life and color, before stopping and looking up.

"Don't worry, Marigold! I'll catch you if you don't make it the first time!" he shouted at her.

Marigold was wondering how her father wasn't afraid to fall, he acted liked it was the easiest thing in the world, perhaps because he was already used to flying. Perhaps it was all matter of confidence; if she thought it was easy, it would be easy. Marigold took the position her father had taught her, and stretched out her wings.

"I can do it…" her little heart was drumming inside her chest, her wings were trembling, her feathers shifting in place, but she was determined. "Here I come!"

Closing her eyes shut, Marigold leapt from the edge of the tower, her wings outstretched. As she dove down, she felt the wind buffeting her face and feathers, her hair flowing behind her. Xibalba readied himself to catch her, in case she didn't make it. Marigold's wings instinctively stretched out and slowed down her fall, the air making her brake and lifting her higher. Marigold started flapping her wings quickly as soon as she felt the wind beneath her wings, until she finally felt balanced and steady (her eyes closed shut all the time).

"Papá?" she called out for her father, and soon she heard larger wing flapping other than her own.

"Marigold, how about you open your little eyes?" she heard him speak.

"Why?" Now that she noticed, she didn't feel her father's hands holding her in any way.

"Trust me, _mi florecita_. You're going to like it."

Reluctantly, Marigold cracked her eyelids open and took a glance to her surroundings. However, she soon was gasping in wonder. Everything looked so small, the Remembered looked like ants, and the rivers of _papel picado_ seemed closer now. Wait a second… Xibalba was flying a few inches above his daughter, his hands behind his back, smiling proudly as she enjoyed her first flight. Soon, Marigold started laughing in excitement, flapping her wings in a quick succession, and flying around her father happily.

"Mírame, papi! I'm flying!" she cried out, flying around in circles, laughing all the while.

"I can see that, _pequeña_!" Xibalba replied, laughing as well. He extended out his wings to brake and watch as Marigold enjoyed the experience for a while, before speaking again. "Just try not to fly too much in circles or you'll get dizzy!"

Reluctantly, Marigold stopped her 'maneuvers' and returned to her father's side, flapping her wings in a quick succession. However, she had a beaming smile on her face.

"This is amazing, papá!"

"It is, isn't it?" Xibalba grinned, ruffling his daughter's hair playfully. "But I think you'll have to tie your hair or it'll be a pain in the butt to brush it in the morning."

"Papá, can we have a race now?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, sweetie. I'm way more experienced than you, and I wouldn't like you to pout when you lose."

"But I'm smaller… and younger!"

Xibalba took a hand to his chest and pretended to be hurt. "You're calling me old?" he grinned confidently. "You're on, _pequeña_!"

Marigold didn't have time to react as Xibalba zoomed past her and into the city, but soon after she flew after him with a grin. They flew through the city, dodging buildings and through the rain of _papel picado_ , laughing all the while. Xibalba would constantly look back to see if Marigold was still following him or if she grew tired. It seemed she still had a lot of energy in her little body, not surprisingly for her young age. However, after a good while her wings started to ache and feel heavy, and she slowed down her pace, but she tried her best to keep her wings flapping. Xibalba immediately braked and flew back to his daughter's side, and caught her in his arms just as her wings couldn't keep flapping anymore.

"What were you saying about me being old an you being much younger?" the Lord of the Forgotten chuckled.

"I guess I exaggerated a bit…" Marigold yawned, rubbing her eyes, letting her wings hang from her back.

"I think you've had enough flying for one day, am I right?"

When Marigold nodded and rested her head against his chest, Xibalba started the long flight back to the castle. When they arrived he landed in the balcony of La Muerte's tower and walked in silently into her chambers. He was happy to say that, while it still brought him memories of his darling wife that made his heart ache, he had grown to tolerate it for his daughter's sake. Xibalba lifted the sheet and placed Marigold underneath it, covering her gently.

"I'm so proud of you, _mi florecita_ …" he whispered gently with a smile. "Your mother would be proud of you as well."

"Thank you, papi…" Marigold yawned one more time before she drifted off to sleep.

" _Buenas noches_ , _mi vida_." His lips peppered his daughter's head, and he stroked her head gently.

They would finish their pending race later.


	20. Regret

_**A la roro niña** _

_**A la roro ya** _

_**Duérmete mi niña** _

_**Duérmete mi amor** _

_Marigold kept suckling from the bottle with half-closed eyelids, cuddling into her father's arms as he sang softly to her. Xibalba had her cradled carefully in his arms, with one hand holding the feeding bottle in place for her to nourish on as his wings gently swung the rocking chair._

_**Esta niña linda** _

_**Que nació de mañana** _

_**Quiere que la lleven** _

_**A pasear en carcacha** _

_When she couldn't drink anymore due to her drowsiness, her lips released the tip of the bottle and she lay her head against her father's chest, soothed and lulled by the familiar heart beat. Xibalba placed the bottle aside and held Marigold against his chest, carefully supporting her with his right hand and patted her back gently; after a while, she let out a burp, and started to hiccup. Xibalba chuckled silently as he cradled his daughter in his arms once more._

_**Esta niña linda** _

_**Que nació de día** _

_**Quiere que la lleven** _

_**A la dulcería** _

_**Esta niña linda** _

_**Se quiere dormir** _

_**Y el pícaro sueño** _

_**No quiere venir.** _

_All the time, Marigold' sleepy eyes didn't leave her father's face; she watched every expression he made, memorizing his features and more often than not trying to imitate his expressions. Her hiccup lasted for a few more minutes before it finally settled down, and she took her fingers to her mouth. Xibalba smiled down at her and gingerly stroked her cheek with his finger._

_Suddenly there was a knock on the door, startling both father and daughter. When Marigold started to sob, Xibalba grew irritated that someone had dared come and make his baby cry. He swiftly glided towards the doors of his chambers, holding Marigold in one arm and flinging the door open with the other._

_"What?!" he hissed with sharp teeth. "I thought I told you I wanted no disturbs!"_

_Emilio shrank under his master's thunderous glare and gulped before managing to speak. "I'm s-sorry, My Lord, but t-there's a lady who wishes to sp-peak t-to you…"_

_Xibalba's frown softened in thought. A lady? Who could it be…? It a not like he was very popular with women these days. "Tell her to come back another day."_

_"We tried, My Lord, but she insists. In fact, she said she would not leave until she spoke with you."_

_Xibalba grumbled under his breath. Wonderful. Just wonderful, the least thing he needed was a woman coming to berate him for something. Usually he would unleash his hounds upon anyone who was foolish enough to show such insolence, but he was against harming women._

_"Tell her I'll meet her in my study." He said reluctantly._

_"Yes, My Lord." Emilio scrambled out of sight to do his task before he irritated his master any further._

_Xibalba sighed and turned his attention back to his newborn daughter; thankfully she had calmed down by fidgeting with his beard, but he had to release it from her tight grip. As he was about to lay her down in her crib, Marigold started to whimper and took a hold on her father's finger._

_"Shhhh, it's okay, mi florecita." He cooed gently, as he bent down to lay Marigold down on the cradle and tucked her in. He felt a little guilty when she started to sob and waved her little arms up to him. "Papi will be back in a while, okay?" Luckily, Marigold was very sleepy and it wasn't long before she fell asleep. Xibalba smiled and planted a kiss on her forehead, before straightening up and gliding out of his chambers, towards his study._

_On the way there he was wondering who was the 'lady' who wanted to see him so badly that she refused to leave. He doubted it was any of the ladies Xochiquetzal had introduced to him in an attempt to 'help him overcome' La Muerte's death, but he showed little to no interest in them. Ixchel was was far too jealous (even more than La Muerte), he doubted of Ixtab's mental faculties wherever he saw the suicide rope around her neck, he was resented at Akhushtal for not letting La Muerte die at childbirth, which was supposedly her (Akhushtal's) jurisdiction, and the list went on._

_However, as soon as he crossed the doors to his study, he wished it had been one of those goddesses._

_Anyone but **her**._

_"Hola, Xibalba."_

_The Goddess he wasn't happy to see at all had a striking resemblance to his late wife; the same face, the same length of hair, the same body, but he knew it was not her. This Goddess was younger, and her black hair had streaks of blonde. Her eyes were a deep shade of blue rather than bright orange, and her eyelids were a dark purple, contrasting her white skin; it was not made of sugar, however, but rather of tiza. Her clothing also differed from her sister's. While La Muerte wore a large sombrero and a long dress pooling at the floor, both adorned with marigolds, this Goddess wore a light indigo skirt and blouse, revealing her abdomen in an almost provoking way; her hair was completely loose with no form of restraint._

_"What do you want, Aimé?" Xibalba spoke to the Goddess with a chilling coldness, his arms behind his back and his back straight, staring at her with a frown._

_The Goddess named Aimé walked closer to the tar-made God. "What? Can't I visit my favorite brother-in-law every now and then?"_

_Xibalba stepped back when she tried to touch him. "Tell me what's your business here at once so that you can leave sooner." It was unpleasant enough to know this… woman was his wife's sister._

_"Come on, Xibalba, aren't you happy to see me after all this years?" Unbeknown to him, Aimé was cornering him against the wall. "Have you forgotten our last time together-?" When she tried to touch him, he grabbed her wrists and pushed her hands away._

_"Don't you dare." He hissed, his teeth sharp._

_"I heard my big sister passed away… I just came to tell you that I'm really, really sorry for it-"_

_"Well, thanks for coming by, but I'm very busy right now so I'd thank you if you left."_

_"Why? You're afraid she'll catch us again?" She pushed the taller god against the wall, surprising him. "She's gone. Now nothing stands in our way."_

_Before he could do anything about it, Aimé pressed her lips against his and pulled him closer; his eyes widened in utter shock and mortification, waves of memories coming back. Immediately he pushed her away violently and wiped his mouth from the foul taste of her chalky lips. Aimé managed to keep her balance as the object of her affections shoved her away, and glared at her with the fury of a demon._

_"HOW COULD YOU?!" he yelled at Aimé, his teeth pointy triangles, his wings outstretched. "YOUR SISTER, MY WIFE, JUST PASSED AWAY AND YOU'RE ALREADY TALKING ABOUT LOVE?!" He would have slapped her if she were not a woman._

_"Exactly! She's dead!" Aimé retorted with a growl. "You have no excuse to reject me any longer!"_

_"How many times do I have to tell you?! I'm NOT interested in you!"_

_"You didn't think that when you slept with me all those years ago!"_

_"That was a mistake! You fooled me into thinking you were La Muerte! Because of you she banished me! Because of you our marriage nearly went downhill!"_

_Aimé grit her teeth and felt tears of pure anger form in the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away. He had always been like this with her, ever since their childhood. He was always fawning over La Muerte, but didn't even turn to look at her younger sister. Aimé had always been in the shadow of her elder sister, in everything. La Muerte had been always the prettier, the sweeter, the wiser, always a step ahead, and when Xibalba came into the picture it became worse. Aimé instantly had feelings for the dark god, but it was clear since the beginning he had deeper feelings for La Muerte. La Muerte had everything; she was to be the next ruler of the Land of the Remembered, she was beloved by everyone, and there were many Gods who sought for her hand in marriage; but no, she had to fall for Xibalba! She had to steal him from her supposedly 'beloved' little sister!_

_"What do I have to do to prove you that I'm sorry, and that my feelings for you are sincere?!" Aimé snapped, fuming with ire._

_Xibalba growled. "I don't care what you say, I want nothing to do with you after you did!" He felt guilty enough about the way he had unknowingly betrayed his wife with her own sister, to add another charge to his conscience by taking her as a lover. Besides, he only had eyes for his wife, dead or not._

_"Please, Balby…" Aimé thought that maybe if she called him by the childhood nickname her sister used he would soften up, but it made him angrier._

_"Don't call me that! There's only one person in this whole universe that can call me with that name!"_

_"Well, that person is dead!" Xibalba tightened his fists and grit his fangs. "Get out of my sight."_

_"Xibalba, if you just…" she approached him warily. "If you would just give me a chance, I could make you feel what I can make any man feel…" She tried to touch him again, but he swatted her hands away._

_"LEAVE ME ALONE!"_

_Aimé stepped back in fright when he roared those three words at her. Realizing it was futile for the moment, she decided to retreat for now. However, it didn't mean she wasn't hurt by yet another of his scorns._

_"You are going to regret this, Xibalba…" Aimé hissed with grit teeth as hot tears streamed down her cheeks. "You will regret this!" With those last words, she was gone in a swirl of marigold petals._

_When she left, Xibalba took a hand to his temples and closed his eyes shut in pain, supporting himself on his desk with his arm. She had reopened a wound he thought had closed._

_**"M-Mi amor, it's not what you think-!"** _

_**"How could you do this to me?! I loved you, Xibalba!"** _

_**"I thought she was you! She tricked me, I swear-!"** _

_**"I DON'T WANT YOU HEAR YOUR EXCUSES! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU AT ALL!"** _

_**"La Muerte-!"** _

_**"LEAVE! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!"** _

_Xibalba could feel tears forming in the corners of his eyes upon remembering her words, the look of anger, sadness and betrayal on her beautiful eyes. He would never forgive himself for causing her that pain, even if it was unwittingly. Even after their reconciliation, centuries later, he still felt guilty about it._

_"I'm so sorry, mi amor…" he sobbed, a few tears escaping his closed eyelids and falling unto his desk. "I'm so sorry…"_

_He remembered he had left Marigold alone for too long. Blinking his tears away and managing to calm himself down, he turned into a ball of tar and zoomed all the way to his chambers, a few steps away from the crib. As soon as he took a peek to what his daughter was doing, Marigold gave him a beaming smile and held her arms out to him. Despite what had happened, Xibalba managed to give his daughter a smile as he picked her up and cradled her in his arms._

_"Hola, bebita. Did you sleep well?"_

_Marigold gurgled and let out the most adorable coos he ever heard as a reply as she wiggled in her father's embrace. Xibalba stroked her cheek, and giggled when she turned her head around and started to suckle on his finger, only to crunch up her little face and stick out her tongue at the leathery taste of his glove. As he sat back on his rocking chair and started bouncing Marigold gently, he stretched out his hand to reach the still half-full bottle, but he stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of something._

_There was a single marigold flower next to the feeding bottle._

* * *

 

"Papá?"

Marigold thought something was wrong with her father when she realized he was not listening to her. He was unusually thoughtful, and he was not even looking at her, he wasn't focusing his attention on anything a tall. Xibalba had hardly touched his meal, his chin resting on top of his left hand, his elbow in turn leaning on the table. Just what was going on inside his head?

"Papi?" Marigold reached out and touched his free hand. This seemed to bring him out of his thoughts.

Xibalba glanced at his daughter in curiosity. "What is it, Marigold?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, _mi florecita_. Why do you ask?"

"I've been talking to you for ten minutes, and you are not listening to me."

"I…" Xibalba sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetie, I was just thinking…"

"Is something worrying you, papá?"

"It's nothing, sweetie. I've just had a lot of work, that's all. I guess I need to relax a bit."

Before Marigold could question her father any further, Emilio rushed into the dining hall with a look of dismay and worry in his reptilian features. "M-My Lord…"

"What is it now, Emilio?" Xibalba inquired softly; he wasn't in the mood to even lash out at his servants for interrupting his lunchtime with his daughter.

"' **Someone** ' wants to see you…"

Marigold had the feeling something was off when Emilio empathized the word somebody; this was confirmed when Xibalba's red eyes went wide, his glass shattering as he dropped it to the ground. Cold dark red wine spilled over the smoky gray floor.

"…Marigold… sweetie… Can you go outside and play with Garra and Colmillo?" his voice was filled with dread, though he tried to dissimulate it.

"What's wrong, papá?"

"N-Nothing, _mijita_ …" he gently grabbed his daughter's hand. "Just… please…" He had never sounded so nervous before, maybe this person that had come to see him had something to do with it.

"Okay…" she decided to comply and stood up from the table, as Emilio led her away.

As soon as he was certain she was out of earshot, Xibalba let out a groan of dismay as he left the table as well and teleported to his study, wanting to get done with this as soon as possible. Tell the woman for the thousandth time to scram back to wherever she just came from, then go back to his daughter. As soon as he materialized in his study, it didn't take him long to find Aimé sitting casually at his chair, her legs resting on top of his desk, all exposed. If what she wanted was to provoke him, it wasn't working.

"How many times must we go through this, Aimé?" the dark god sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his temple.

"Until you accept the truth that you can't live without me." Aimé replied, licking her lips as she teleported a few inches in front of him in a blur or marigold petals. " _Me deseas_ , I know you desire me as a woman." She rubbed his lips with her thumb and ran a hand down his chest. "Even though you don't accept it."

Although he shivered internally with pleasure after ten years without feminine contact, Xibalba took Aimé's wrists with his hands and pushed them away. "Don't do that!" he hissed, as coldly as an ice floe, but Aimé gripped on his right glove.

"What? Don't you know your brat is at a sensitive age? Don't you know she needs a mother?"

"Exactly. A **mother** , not a **witch**."

"Why must you be so stubborn, Xibalba? Put aside your prejudices!" Aimé was losing her patience, and her grip on Xibalba's glove tightened. "Let's start a new life together! Now that that _puta_ I had to call my sister is gone-!"

"Don't you dare call her like that!"

As Xibalba flapped his wings and sent Aimé flying back, he couldn't do anything as his glove slid off his right hand along with her due to her grip on it. Aimé landed unto the small dark velvet couch, the dark god's glove in her hand. But she was not shocked by what he had just done. On his hand, there was a golden ring on his finger, somewhat worn down by time. She couldn't believe what she was seeing...

"Is that…?"

"Yes. It's my wedding band." Xibalba snapped his fingers, and the glove quickly slid out of Aimé´s grasp and it flew towards him; he caught it with his other hand.

"Why are you still wearing it?!"

"Why?" Xibalba examined the ring forlornly, before hardening his stare when he glanced back at Aimé. "Because I am a married man."

"No, you're not!" Aimé spat, standing up. "You're a widower now! You're free!"

"I don't expect you to understand it, Aimé. The love I feel for La Muerte is stronger than anything. As far as I'm concerned, she still is, and will always be my wife."

Aimé could have thrown a tempter tantrum at those words, but she was smarter than that. No, she just had to wait a little longer. She could see it in his eyes, he was dying for feminine touch. Sooner or later, he would surrender to her beauty, she just had to pick the right moment.

"Well, I think you're busy right now." Aimé tried but failed to contain her anger, however. "After all, you have a daughter to attend to, right? I guess I'll come back later."

"Don't come back at all." Xibalba ended the conversation firmly, and his expression didn't change as he watched Aimé disappear in a blur of orange petals. However, his look softened as he looked down at his ungloved hand, and fidgeted with the golden ring sadly, remembering the night he'd proposed to La Muerte. He had never removed it, he didn't have the courage; he felt it was like carrying a part of her with him.

After what seemed an eternity, Xibalba slid his hand back into the glove, hiding the wedding band from view. Suddenly, he heard hound barking and loud clangs coming from the halls outside. Xibalba sighed in dismay as he walked out of his study and went to see what Marigold had been doing.

Knowing her, she'd probably already turned the castle upside-down.


	21. Menarche

_She had returned to him, the angel of his dreams. She beckoned him close, her arms outstretched, once more promising warmth in his darkness, and love in his loneliness. As he approached her, he noticed the pink sleeping gown that she wore, and her hair completely free, with no ties. He was transfixed, he could not deny either of them, and he went willingly into her arms, losing himself within her, moaning her name as her softness enveloped him…_

_Xibalba awoke from the dazzling dream then, gulping in air as if he had been underwater. His body was trembling and the air was… warm? His tar skin was slick with perspiration, no doubt from his dream. He closed his eyes briefly, groaning as he once again came crashing back to reality. Gone was his angel… once more he was awake, once more he was alone…_

_Wait. Something was different._

_There was an unusual weight upon his right arm and wing… in fact, he could not even more them! And something… something tickled his chin…_

_He looked down and saw several black waves that appeared to be the source. How on earth did they…?_

_A sleepy groan arose from the chamber and Xibalba knew it did not belong to him. His eyes went wide as he looked down at his side where his arm was outstretched. There, snuggled in the crook of his arm, her beautiful head pillowed against him, lay his angel, his **corazón** , sleeping peacefully with a lovely smile, his right wing wrapped around her and pulling her closer._

_Xibalba's face paled at the sight. He lay frozen as La Muerte sleepily moaned again, shifting her body this time, moving in closer to him._

_What was she doing in his domain?_

_No… wait… upon looking at his surroundings, it was rather, what was he doing in her domain? He felt his breath catch as he realized… the two of them were naked, her body curled into a ball beside his. Good gods… had… had they…?_

_He remembered. His La Muerte had finally forgiven him, finally his greatest wish and heart's desire had come true; after centuries of being apart from each other, they were finally together once more. He had come last night, to spend a few hours with his wife, and it seemed the 'hours' turned into the whole night, as they rekindled their love for each other, once thought extinguished._

_La Muerte shivered and once again he felt the cold air hit his flesh. Gazing in wonder at her beautiful sleeping face, he reached down and pulled a thick warm blanket over her body, watching as she buried her face into his bare chest, drawing the blanket's warmth around her. Xibalba smiled and tenderly stroked La Muerte's cheek with his free hand, brushing strands of silky hair from her beautiful and warm face. He then took a sniff and felt the familiar scent of marigolds and roses of his beloved. Gods in Aztlan, how he had missed this! Her touch, her aroma, her kisses… Xibalba planted a kiss on his wife's head and kept stroking her cheek tenderly with his thin, skeletal fingers as he watched her sleep._

_La Muerte started to stir awake, and the first thing she noticed was that someone comfortably held her. She almost instantly recognized that embrace, and the slight smell of tar. Memories of last night returned to her, flashes and blurs of Xibalba coming to visit her, but then the visit turned into a passionate night, where she received the passionate kisses and tender caresses she had missed so much. She slowly opened her eyes, and looked up, meeting with her Balby's adoring eyes._

_" **Buenos días, mi corazón**." Xibalba whispered lovingly, pulling his wife closer with his wing. _

_" **Hola** , Balby." La Muerte replied with a smile, running her fingers up Xibalba's chest to fidget with his beard. "Did you sleep well?" _

_"Better than ever, **mi amor** , now that I can have you in my arms once more." _

_La Muerte giggled and leaned in closer to her husband. "I missed you, Balby."_

_"Me too, **preciosa**. Every single night for the past ten centuries I missed your touch, your lips, everything about you. I was so lonely…" he ran a finger through her shoulder. _

_"Not anymore, **mi vida**. We're together again, that's all that matters now." _

_Xibalba smiled at her and brushed a hair away from her face. " **Te amo, mi corazón**." _

_" **Yo también te amo** , mi Balby." _

_The two joined their lips to express their love once more as they pulled closer to each other._

_Little did they know that Xibalba had planted his seed into La Muerte's womb._

* * *

 

 

Xibalba nearly had a heart attack when a high-pitched scream echoed through the halls of his castle; in fact, he nearly went flying backwards from his rocking chair, but he managed to recover his balance in time. However, his heart drummed inside him, he knew that scream.

"MARIGOLD!"

Immediately, Xibalba flew from his rocking chair, bursting the door open, and quickly flew towards his daughter's room, fearing the worst. Bursting the doors of Marigold's room and not finding her there, he panicked, thinking she had been taken away by some dark being (other than him) that inhabited his twisted and dark domain, until he heard sobbing coming from the bathroom. Immediately, Xibalba flew towards the bathroom and opened the door.

"Marigold, are you-?!" He froze in shock and mortification at what he saw.

Marigold was on top of the toilet, hugging her knees and trying to hide her legs with her purple dress adorned with pink and yellow flowers, her wings close to her body. Her panty was on the floor, a few steps away from her. But that was not what shocked him the most.

There were drops of blood in the panty.

"Papá!" As soon as she heard her father coming in, Marigold flew to him and wrapped her arms around his legs, burying her face into his cloak, sobbing. "I'm bleeding and I don't know why!"

Xibalba was staring at the stained panty in utter and silenced shock; he had a hunch to why she was bleeding in that particular part, but he was still processing it. It couldn't be… His _niñita_ … It was too soon. She was only twelve years old, for goodness's sake! How was he supposed to give her The Talk? She was a girl and he was a man! For the moment, however, he just kneeled down and embraced his daughter, cooing her and telling her everything was going to be alright.

"Don't worry, _mi florecita_. It's alright, I'm here."

"I'm scared, papi! I'm bleeding!"

"It's…" he started trembling inwardly, his wings shivered nervously. "…normal, sweetie."

Marigold pulled back from the embrace and looked into her father's eyes, with tears streaming down her cheeks. "Normal?"

"Well, yes it is…" ah, damn it! He couldn't explain it to her! He couldn't understand it himself, actually. "All little girls… bleed when they become young ladies…"

"I don't want to be a young lady! I don't want to bleed!" She embraced her father once more.

"I know, _mi florecita_ , but… it's a natural process, all girls go through this. Your mamá went through this, too…" Oh, how he wished she was here to help him in this one. Xibalba knew that he needed help from a woman to explain it to his daughter; otherwise this would probably traumatize her. And unfortunately, he only knew one woman whom he could trust in this one.

"Great…" Xibalba sighed, standing up and bouncing Marigold to try and console her. "Just great…"

* * *

 

As soon as Captain Miguel Sandoval went to the Casa de Sánchez and told her Lord Xibalba wanted to see her, Carmen was certain it had something to do with Marigold. In fact, she and the Adelita Twins made a bet with the male members of their family that it had something to do with 'The Talk'.

Once she dismounted from Manuel's horse and made her way through the hallowed halls of the palace towards La Muerte's chamber, she was sure it had to do with the Talk as soon as she crossed the doors and Marigold's little arms wrapped around her waist.

"Auntie Carmen! I'm bleeding!" she sobbed, still trembling.

Carmen looked up at Xibalba for an explanation, and she could tell it was awkward for him to give it.

"Err… Her panty… it had a few drops of blood and…" finally, the dark god let out a frustrated groan. "What do I know?! I'm a man!"

Carmen rolled her eyes, but she knew what he wanted her to do. He couldn't give her the Talk himself because he wouldn't know how to explain a Woman's Business to a twelve-year old. Nevertheless, she decided to lend him a hand.

"Don't worry, _linda_." Carmen placed her hands on Marigold's shoulders and pulled her closer. "I'd like to have a woman-to-woman talk with you." She glanced at Xibalba with a mildly stern look, and he knew it was his cue to get out.

"Well, _mi florecita_ , if you need me I'll be… outside." Xibalba rushed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

When he was gone, Carmen led Marigold to the bathroom, and looked for something in the shelves. Once she found what she was looking for, she went back to Marigold's side. "Before anything, you should put this on so your panties won't get stained with the bleeding."

Marigold stared at the long but small piece of cotton and plastic with teary eyes. "What's that, auntie?"

"This is called a menstrual pad, it's for when young girls like you have the 'bleeding'."

"But I don't know how to put it on, auntie…"

Carmen smiled. "Don't worry, _linda_. I'll teach you."

She led Marigold to the toilet, and motioned her to lower her panty to her knees.

"See these flaps?" Carmen pointed at the small wing-like small flaps on the sides of the pad. Marigold nodded. "First, you fold them out and then take the center backing that covers the adhesive on the center. Once that's done, you stick it to your panty. But it goes directly under your vagina, not in your front or climbing up your rear. Then you fold the flaps around the outside of your panties so that they stick. That way the pad will remain in place."

As she explained the whole process, she helped Marigold stick the menstrual pad to her panty, and when she was done she pulled it back up. However, the little goddess was still freaking out, so to say.

"But why am I bleeding at all? How do I make it stop?"

"Let's go take a seat, _linda_. I'll explain you about it."

They went back to the bed, and sat on the red velvet sheets.

"Look, Marigold, that bleeding is called _menstruación_." Carmen explained, holding Marigold's hand tightly. "All girls go through the _menstruación_ when they become young ladies, it's nothing to be afraid of. Me, the twins, even your mamá wet through it when they came of age."

"But I don't want to bleed forever." Marigold sobbed.

"No, no, _linda_. You won't bleed forever. The _menstruación_ only happens every once in a month, it depends on your hormones. It lasts for five or six days, and then it stops for another month before it starts over again."

"Isn't there a way to stop it forever?"

Carmen shook her head. "I'm afraid the _menstruación_ lasts for most of a woman's life, until she becomes too old. And you're a goddess, linda, do you know what it means?"

Marigold looked down in dismay. "I'm going to bleed forever?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. But that's not the only change you'll go through."

"Huh?"

"Now that you're growing up into a young lady, your body and your emotions are going to change too. You're going to grow your breasts, you will grow a bit of hair in the outer areas of your vagina, but overall you might start feeling butterflies in your stomach when you like a particular boy."

Marigold blinked in confusion at that part. Butterflies in her stomach? Boys? What was that supposed to mean? "Butterflies in my stomach?"

Carmen giggled. "It's when you meet a boy and you want to spend as much time with him as possible. You feel like you're in the clouds every time you're with him, you are always thinking about him and you don't like him being around other young girls."

"I don't understand…"

"You will when the time comes, _linda_ , when you meet this special boy. It's what married couples feel when they're with their partner."

"Married couples…?" Marigold thought for a moment. "My papá felt butterflies in his stomach when he was with mamá?"

"Yes, exactly. And speaking of your father, I think we should let him know everything's alright, don't you think?" Carmen grinned. "Before he starts eavesdropping on us."

Outside, Xibalba was pacing around in front of the room worriedly. What were they talking about?! There were tons of emotions brewing up inside his chest; anxiety, worry, exasperation… he wanted so badly to know what that woman was telling his daughter. What was so complicated to understand about that bleeding his daughter had? Just as he was about to break the door open, it opened and Carmen and Marigold walked out. Thankfully, Marigold seemed more calm now, but there was still some uncertainty in her.

"Well?" he looked down at them in worry and anxiety, fidgeting with his staff.

"Auntie Carmen just talked to me about boys and the butterflies."

Xibalba's eyes widened, and he shot Carmen a glare, to which she responded by rolling her eyes.

"She's old enough to know about it that." She said simply.

"D-Did you talk about something else, Marigold?" the dark god inquired, changing the topic.

"Yes, but Auntie Carmen said it's women' business and I shouldn't tell anyone."

"Wha-?!"

Carmen and Marigold made a high five, making Xibalba grow even more irritated and exasperated. He kneeled down, took Marigold by the shoulders and gave her a puppy look (or at least he tried to). "Not even your papi?"

"Nope."

"Please?"

"No."

Carmen giggled at the expression on Xibalba's face, even when he turned to her with a frown. "What's so funny?" he growled.

"If you want to know so badly, you should change your gender, if that's even possible."

AGH! How he wanted to kill that woman for such insolence, but he only glared daggers at her. Oh, if only looks could kill…

"Well, My Lord, if you don't need me anymore, I have to declare victory on a bet with my husband Carlos." Carmen giggled. She patted Marigold's head gently. "Nos vemos, _linda_."

Marigold waved at Carmen as she walked away. "Nos vemos, auntie!"

Once he was certain Carmen was out of earshot, Xibalba stood up once more and looked down at his daughter. "Sweetie, what exactly did she tell you about boys?"

"Something about having butterflies in my stomach when I met one that I really, really like, and wanting to be with him. She said you felt butterflies in your stomach everytime you were with mamá."

Almost immediately Xibalba blushed deeply, making Marigold giggle. He didn't find it funny at all, however. He considered a very serious matter. "W-Well… Sort of, _m-mi florecita_ …"

"Speaking of which, papá, can I ask you something?"

Xibalba looked at both sides of the corridor to see if anyone was coming, and led his daughter inside the room once more, closing the door behind him. Once they were inside, he took his daughter to the bed and both sat down.

"Okay, you can ask me now that no one's interrupting us."

"Where do babies come from?"

Snap. That was a low hit. Xibalba just stared at his daughter with wide eyes and a fast-beating heart. She didn't ask that question when she was five, and he had hoped she would never to do, but no, she had to ask precisely after this particular episode. Carmen said she was old enough to know about the 'butterflies', but he didn't consider her old enough to know about this just yet.

"Well, sweetie…" he gulped, trying to think of the right words to satisfy their curiosity. "When two people love each other very much... they…"

"They what?"

"Err… It's a… They kiss!"

Marigold blinked. "Kiss?"

"Oh, yeah! They kiss each other very much, and… they cuddle together in bed."

"I don't get it…"

"Do you remember how you used to come to my bed everytime there was a blizzard?"

"H-hm."

"That kind of cuddling."

Thankfully, it seemed that she accepted that answer. "And they kiss? In the lips?"

"Yes." Xibalba replied quickly.

"You and mamá made me with-?"

"Yes, with cuddling and kissing! And let's leave it like that!" he finished the topic at the top of his nerves. He could even swear he was starting to sweat.

Marigold stuck her tongue. "Yuck."

Xibalba chuckled as he ruffled his daughter's head playfully. "Yeah. Yuck."


	22. The 'Outside' World Part 1

"Papá. I want to go to the Land of the Living." Marigold groaned in frustration, practicing her speech with her 'father', or rather a representation of him; a pillow. "No, no, not like that. Argh! Why is it so hard?!"

She had grown considerably from the innocent little baby born all those fourteen- fifteen in a few days-years ago. Like everyone had always said, she was nearly the living portrait of her mother La Muerte. Flowing black hair reaching her waist, body made out of sugar, and a delicate figure, although she was far from being a damsel in distress, for she had also inherited her mother's fierce spirit. However, instead of a red scarlet dress and a red sombrero both adorned with candles and marigolds, she wore a white sleeveless blouse with red liries trimmed at the bodice, and a long red skirt with trimmed drawings of white roses. However, the other side of her heritage was noticeable to all. The wings her father passed unto her had grown graceful and strong that would carry her wherever she wanted, and her red eyes in a deep pool of glowing green were filled with a mix of determination, kindness and mischievousness.

"Papá, you know I'm turning fifteen, don't you? How about we go to the Land of the Living and- ARGH! No, no, no!" Marigold groaned in frustration once more, taking her hands to grip her hair and extending out her wings in dismay.

Why is visiting the Land of the Living so important to her, you ask? The answer is simple. Well, ever since she was very young she had heard the Remembered talk about it the whole time, planting a seed of deep curiosity and fascination for the place she had never seen. When she asked her father about it, he simply said that it was the 'upper floor' to the Land of the Remembered, but he refused to take her there, stating she was too young.

These days, Xibalba was growing annoyingly overprotective with his daughter now that she was in her teens, especially since he knew that puberty was also the stage in which the 'butterflies in the stomach' appeared. He never let Marigold near any boys, or if any of the boys tried to speak to her he'd send Ponzoña or his hounds to send that unfortunate boy a 'warning'.

She and her father still lived in the Land of the Forgotten, but every few weeks he would go to the Land of the Remembered, since Xibalba still had duties there as well, but the Elder Council took most care of that business. He usually only spent a few hours there, but when the work there was overwhelming he sent a letter to Marigold announcing her that he'd had to spend two or three days in the Land of the Remembered. Marigold could go to the Land of the Remembered wherever she wanted, mostly because most of her friends (rather, subjects, as Xibalba always put it) were there.

In the Land of the Forgotten, she had little to do, considering that her father's servants were no longer permitted to interact that much with her, though Marigold would often start chats with the black lizards and help them with their chores when her father was not home. She had practically read every single book in both her bookshelves and her father's personal library, even reread her favorite ones various times. There were many other things she was good at, such as baking, solving puzzles, playing chess, making candles, and sewing.

But her greatest passion was painting; her room, unlike every other room or corner in the Land of the Forgotten, had walls decorated with bright and swirling colors, painted there by herself. They were mostly paintings of how she imagined the Land of the Living to be, with beautiful blue or starry skies, grassy fields of flowers, birds of many colors and little creatures playing through lively forests and jungles, but her masterpiece was one painted in the wall facing her bed; the painting of one particular town named San Ángel, which most of the Remembered stated was just above their land. That place was apparently where her mother and father met as children, and so her greatest desire was to see it with her own eyes.

"That's it!" Marigold stomped her foot. "I'm going to ask him! And this time I'm not accepting 'no' for an answer!"

Just then, there was a knock at her door.

"Miss, your father is back." She recognized Rodrigo's voice.

Marigold grinned. "Sí, I'm coming!" she happily opened the door and flew away through the dark halls, startling Rodrigo a bit.

Meanwhile, Xibalba glided through the doors to his castle with a tired expression. Really, he still couldn't believe the Remembered made such a fuss just because there were not enough desserts, he was starting to regret going there instead of leaving it to the Elder Council as always. But duties were duties, he knew that better than anyone.

"Papi!"

His mood enlightened as soon as he heard his daughter's voice in the halls, and the corners of his lips went upwards when Marigold flew around the corner swiftly and gracefully, heading towards him with outstretched arms and a grin on her face.

"Hello there, Mari-" he let out a painful and surprised huff when Marigold flew into him (not hard enough to send them both against the ground, however), wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head against his chest affectionately.

"I'm glad you're back, papá." She giggled.

Xibalba returned the embrace fondly, wrapping his wings around his daughter's body. "And you don't know how happy I am to see you, _mi florecita_. Having to listen to peasant's sorrows and problems is not precisely my favorite thing to do, after all."

Marigold pulled back from the embrace and looked up at her father. "Papá, did I mention your beard looks fluffier than usual? And your moustaches look so curved, did you comb them? "

Xibalba blinked at the unexpected compliment. "Uh, Marigold, that's how they've always looked like, remember?"

"Really? I guess I didn't notice." Out of sudden she changed the topic. "You must be really tired from your journey, aren't you?"

"Well, now that you mention it, I could use some rest-" He couldn't finish the sentence as Marigold grabbed his hand and led him through the halls, towards the dining hall. Once there, she sat him down on his chair and teleported away in a swirl of rose petals, returning a few seconds later with a basket of churros and placing it in front of him. "You should have something to eat before you take a nap, I made these especially for you."

Xibalba glanced at his daughter suspiciously; why was she acting so affectionate and accommodating… well, more than usual? "What do you want from me, _jovencita_?" he asked her with a raised eyebrow, crossing his arms.

"Me? Can't a daughter pamper on her father out of love?" Marigold chirped innocently.

Xibalba grinned. "I know you, Marigold. Wherever you act like this it's because you want something. Just tell me what do you want…" the dark god thought for moment. " Or what did you break."

Marigold gasped and took a hand to her chest. "How dare you, papá? You offend me! But now that you mention it, there is something I want to talk about with you."

"I knew it!"

"Well…" Marigold glanced in another direction, shifting her feet. "As you know, my birthday is coming in a few days…"

"I see." Xibalba smiled, taking a whole churro into his mouth and licking the sugar from his lips. "I presume you've already thought what you would like as a gift?" He took a bite form another churro; how he loved Marigold's treats!

"Yes, exactly!" Marigold clapped her hands together. "It's what I want the most for this birthday… Well, actually I've wanted it for years, but…"

"Yes?"

"I…. It's something very special…" Damn it, why was it so hard?!

"I'm listening, _mija_." Letting out a groan of frustration, she finally spat it straight out. "I want to go to the Land of the Living!"

Xibalba stopped his hand when he was about to take another churro. Did he hear what he thought he heard? " _Qué_?"

"I was…" Marigold sighed and spoke calmly this time. "I was hoping you could take me to San Ángel, you know, where you and mamá met. I just…" she looked down. "I need to see what it looks like."

Xibalba glanced at his daughter, all humor gone from his face; on the inside, he was freaking out, thinking on what to tell her this time to prevent her from going up there. It was not he didn't want to grant her the thing she wished the most, but he was afraid something might happen to her. She didn't know anything about the world or its people; she could fall in the claws of evil people, or have her innocence taken from her. He didn't want his daughter to get hurt.

"Well, _mija_ , there are many books in my library that have pictures of the Land of the Living. You could take them a look." Xibalba said softly.

"Papá…" Marigold groaned in dismay. "I already read every single book in there. But I don't want to see pictures, I want to see it with my own eyes."

" _Cariño_ , are you sure you don't want anything else?" Xibalba started to lose his calm, and nervously tried to think of something else she would like. "How about a kitten? You wanted a kitten when you were five."

"Papá, I'm turning fifteen, not six. Besides, you are allergic to cats, remember?" Marigold grew irritated. "Is it so hard for you to take me up there at least once?!"

"You could at least try to understand me, Marigold!" Xibalba stood up abruptly from the chair, giving his daughter a mild glare. "You're my only child! What would I do if something happened to you?!"

"Come on, papá! What could possibly happen to me? Getting pooped on by a bird?"

"Do not take it so lightly, Marigold! Where do you think the souls imprisoned in The Pit came from?! You don't know humanity like I do!"

"And why do you think is that?! Because I've never actually met a human!"

"And believe me when I tell you it's best that you never meet one!"

Before Marigold could retort, one of the lizards ran into the dining room, and bowed before his master before speaking. "My Lord, a new group has arrived."

Oh, great. Interrupted again. Xibalba sighed and glanced at the lizard. "I'll be there in a moment." When the lizard was gone, the dark king turned his head around to see his daughter once more. "We'll talk about this later, _sí_?" he spoke, calmly this time. Before he teleported out, he took the basket of churros in one hand, and turned into a ball of tar that zoomed out of the dining hall.

As soon as Marigold was alone, she let out a groan of frustration as her wings flared out in reflex. She loved her father, but sometimes she wished he didn't get in her life so often! What was he so afraid of?! Marigold flew back to her room in the blink of an eye, and closed the door shut; once she locked the door, she glided to her bed and let her body fall on top of it. The ceiling just above her bed was painted in a blue sky, with white puffy clouds and colorful birds such as quetzales and guacamayos. How she longed to see the color-changing sky, the flesh and colorful animals, but overall, the living people. But it seemed her father would never allow her to go there.

"But…. If he doesn't know I went there?" she wondered out loud to no one in particular. She could always sneak out of the castle without anyone noticing, go see the Candlemaker to the Cave of Souls and ask him to send her to the Land of the Living for a few hours. But flashes of growls, roars and cries of anguish returned to haunt her, from when she was younger and helpless. Then the words she and her father exchanged.

_Promise me you'll never do something like this again._

_I promise, papi_.

She had made a promise to her father. She promised him to never try and sneak out without his knowledge again; if she did this, she would be breaking that promise. Xibalba would never forgive her for breaking that promise, especially after she was nearly killed that time. But on the other hand, what her father didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Knowing Xibalba, it would probably take him various hours to be over with the newly arrived spirits. So it gave her some time.

Marigold stood up from bed, praying with all her might that her father wouldn't notice her absence. All those hours reading spell books about teleportation would now be useful. Clutching her wings close to her body, Marigold closed her eyes shut and concentrated her energy, focusing all her thoughts on the place she wanted to go. She disappeared in a flash of rose petals.

* * *

 

 

When she opened them again, she realized she was no longer in her room. She was in a humongous cave, illuminated and adorned with hundreds-no, thousands- of wax candles, a some of them floating in the air, but the majority was stacked to the rocky walls. Various waterfalls cascaded from the ceiling into unknown realms, one of them being her father's. She had made it. She was in the Cave of Souls.

"Candlemaker?!" Marigold called out for the wax deity, advancing to the center of the cave. "Are you here?!"

After a few seconds, there was a flash of golden light in front of her, and when it dissipated she found the obese being made of wax in front of her, a floating and seemingly sentient book hovering by his side.

"Mari-goldie? Is that you? I can't believe it!" the Candlemaker giggled and embraced the young goddess, lifting her up, making her choke.

"C-Candlemaker… Can't breath…" Marigold managed to choke out.

"Oh, sorry!" the Candlemaker put her down. "It's just…! The last time I saw you, you were this small!" he held out his hands away from each other in the size of a baby. The Book of Life flew around Marigold happily.

"Really? Papá doesn't talk much about you." She only knew about him because Carmen and Luis had mentioned him often.

"Well, what brings you here? Is there something I can help you with?"

"Actually, yes. Is there a waterfall that leads to the Land of the Living?"

The Candlemaker thought for a moment while fidgeting with his beard of clouds. "Not really, but I can teach you how to teleport there if you'd like."

Marigold's eyes immediately lit up. "Yes! How can I go to the Land of the Living?! Teach me!"

"Okay! _No hay problema_! I just need to ask your father-"

"No!" Marigold blurted out at the three last words, startling the Candlemaker and the Book of Life. "I mean, papá is tending to some newly-arrived souls, and you know he doesn't like to be interrupted-"

"He doesn't even know you're here, does he?"

Marigold sighed in defeat. She had been caught. "No."

"Mari-goldie, I'd like to help you but if your father finds out I helped you do this behind his back…" the Candlemaker gulped, and the Book of Life hid behind him. "Well, you're lucky he has never shown you that side of him."

"Please, Candlemaker! He'll never know! It'll only be for a few hours, then I'll return to the Land of the Forgotten!"

The Candlemaker thought for a moment, before shrugging. He hadn't seen Marigold in years, and as her unofficial godfather, it was his unofficial duty to make her happy in any way he could. "Okay, here's the secret." He motioned Marigold to get closer so that he could whisper into her ear. "Just concentrate your energy, visualize where you want to go, and that's it."

"That's… it?"

"What? You though it was some sort of complicated ritual or something like that?"

"Kind of…" Marigold sighed. It wasn't as hard as she had feared it would be; she closed her eyes shut once more, and tried to visualize the few pictures she had seen of San Ángel in her father's books. For a moment, nothing happened, but soon she felt waves of energy all around her, and her feet being lifted off the ground.

"Do the same to go back home!" she heard the Candlemaker's voice, but it sounded distant. "See you later, Mari-goldie!"

She couldn't help but giggle when he called her like that. The energy around her swirled quickly, before everything went still again. However, she felt like she was in a different place, and this was corroborated when her feet tickled with something under her feet.

* * *

Marigold opened her eyes, and her heart skipped a beat in wonder. In front of her, was the place she had wanted to see ever since she was a little girl. Unlike the Lands of the Remembered and Forgotten, this place had an actual sky, and judging by the light blue color, white clouds and the giant golden orb shining high in it, it must be daytime. A great lake of clear blue water –not lava, like the one around Xibalba's castle- surrounded the town, and a massive desert was in turn around the lake. The town itself was pretty, the white buildings had contrasting red rooves that shone under the sunlight, and a long bridge led to the entrance of town.

She. Had. Done. It.

"I can't believe it… I did it!" Marigold cried in delight, flapping her wings in excitement, before suddenly a wave of shock and disbelief overcame her. "I can't believe it, I did it…" It gave way to another round of happiness and joy. "I can't believe it! I did it!" her smile fell and she wrapped herself in her wings. "Papá will be furious…"

* * *

 

The young goddess found herself at the bank of the lake, giggling as the smaller fish approached her submerged feet and tickled her fingers. Even a few ducks were approaching her in curiosity as she reached out and grabbed a water lilly.

"Oh, _bueno_. It's not that bad. What he doesn't know won't kill him, right?"

* * *

 

 

"What am I going to do?" She whined as she hugged her knees and wrapped her wings around herself, in one of the many caves around San Ángel. The bats had awakened from their diurnal sleep, but rather than flying out in panic they dropped down and were sniffing her warily. "This is going to kill him!"

* * *

 

 

Marigold laughed as she flew around the desert, her wings gracefully carrying her over the sand, unknowingly sending a few critters flying. She flew higher into the sky, and soared through the sky, touching clouds and making a few shapes. "This is amazing!"

* * *

 

 

Marigold leaned with her head against one of the large rocks in the desert, her wings and arms hanging limply, an anguished look in her face. "I'm a horrible daughter." Had her father noticed she was missing? She didn't want to imagine the heart attack he would go through when he did. "I'll go back."

* * *

 

 

"I'm never going back!" Marigold laughed as she made sand angels in the soft sand near the bank of the lake, just like she used to do in the ashy snow in the Land of the Forgotten. Her dark wings were stained with sand, but the sensation only made her laugh even more.

* * *

 

Her body lay un top of a patch of grass near a 'forest' of cactus, her wings stretched out, her hair pointing out in all directions possible. "I'm a despicable being…" she whined, not lifting her head from the ground.

* * *

 

 

"WOO-HOO!" Marigold flew over the lake, grazing the water with her fingers as the larger fish jumped out of the water like dolphins. " _Qué gran día_!"

* * *

 

 

She stared at the entrance of San Ángel with a feeling of eagerness yet also a contrasting sense of dread in her soul. What if something went wrong, and she called too much attention to herself? Sure, since she was still in her goddess form the mortals could not see her unless she wanted them to, otherwise she had to take human form for others to see her. Still, she knew her father had been right in one thing when he said that the evil, irredeemable spirits imprisoned in The Pit came from the Land of the Living; but that didn't mean they all came from San Ángel. Most of the members of the Sánchez family came from this little town, and they very good people. Besides, they described San Ángel as a place with good honest people, and Carmen even told her that La Muerte and Xibalba often visited it when the former was alive.

Which reminded her…

"I should ask anyone around here where the Proposal tree is." Marigold thought to herself as she glided through the town, looking for someplace where she could assume a human form.

* * *

 

 

"I don't know what to do anymore." Xibalba sighed, pacing in front of his wife's body, his wings tucked close to his body to avoid disturbing any of the flowers in there. "I'm just trying to protect her, but she doesn't listen to me. She doesn't understand how dangerous the Land of the Living is."

He glanced at La Muerte's serene face as if expecting her to reply, but she remained unmoving. He wondered what she would have done in his place. Xibalba caressed La Muerte's cheek forlornly, shuddering at feeling the coldness in her once warm skin. "I miss you so much, _mi amor_ …" Not even after all this time had his heart healed completely; No, he would always carry the pain and sorrow no matter what he did.

After all this years, he had never lay his eyes on another. He didn't dare, he felt like he would be insulting his wife's memory if he ever dared to touch another woman. His heart would always belong to La Muerte, even in death. Many of the other Gods had introduced him to many lovely, young goddesses but he turned them down, saying he wasn't interested. He only had eyes for La Muerte, and his daughter.

Speaking of which, he and Marigold had an unfinished talk they had to settle.

Kissing La Muerte's forehead and brushing a hair away from her face, Xibalba turned around and silently glided out of the room. When he was out of the passage, he closed the door shut behind him and headed towards his daughter's room. Xibalba still couldn't believe that his _niñita_ , his _bebé_ , his _florecita_ , would be turning fifteen years old in a few days; he was still having trouble accepting that she was growing up into a young lady. He couldn't bear the thought of her having another man in her life other than him; he didn't want anyone to break his daughter's fragile little heart.

Once he was in front of the familiar doors, Xibalba knocked the door gently. "Marigold?" he called out softly. "Sweetie, we need to talk."

No reply.

"Marigold, I know you're upset, but…"

When he heard no reply, the dark god opened the door to see if she was okay, but he nearly had a heart attack when he saw the room was empty.

"Marigold?!" Xibalba flew inside and looked around his daughter's room, but found no sign of her. She had gone out! Without telling him! Again! But where could she have gone…?

Oh, no.

Xibalba clenched his fists in anger as he flew out of the room at the speed of a bullet.

That _chamaca_ was in **big** trouble.


	23. The 'Outside' World Part 2

It was beautiful.

The town was boiling with life, people walking down the street either by themselves or with other people, sometimes a couple passed by her. Unlike the Remembered or Forgotten, these people had no sign of bones, it seemed that the bones were inside their flesh, temporary bodies. In that moment she was strolling through the marketplace, watching awkwardly as they got too 'affectionate'. Marigold had taken the form of a fourteen year old teen, with her usual attire and appearance but with pale green eyes, fair skin and her wings were temporally gone. It had been half an hour ever since she came, and she already loved the place.

Right then she was taking a look at the pastries in a bakery, feeling their sweet aroma of cinnamon and brown sugar come into her nostrils. She noticed that the most selling treat in this particular day was _pan de muerto_ , probably because it would be Day of the Dead in a few days, coincidentally her birthday. Marigold had always felt curiosity for an authentic celebration, she wanted to see how the Living remembered their beloved.

"Can I help you with something, _linda_?"

Marigold nearly jumped when she heard a voice next to her. She glanced around and saw an old woman that reminded her of her auntie Carmen, but this old lady had completely white hair, and she was a bit more chubbier, with wrinkles all over her face and a pair of glasses over her deep brown eyes. She could tell this woman irradiated an aura of kindness around her.

"I was just taking a look." Marigold replied, turning her attention back to the éclairs. She had never tasted those.

"You are new around here, aren't you?" the old lady inquired, noticing the curious look on the young one's face.

"Yes. I just arrived, so I don't know anyone here…"

"May I ask where you come from, _linda_?"

"I come from…" Marigold thought for a moment, trying to think of a good place. "I come from la Capital. It was getting too crowded, and I wanted a bit of fresh air."

The old lady nodded. "Yes. Nowadays people prefers to live in the big cities, no one really comes to our little town anymore." She noted the hungry look on Marigold's face. "Would you like to take one, _linda_?"

Marigold internally licked her lips, but she looked down in dismay. "I don't have any money, _señora_ …"

The old woman smiled. "Don't worry, it's on the house, _querida_."

Marigold's eyes widened lightly in surprise. "R-Really...?" when the woman nodded, Marigold grabbed one of the éclairs and gave it a bite. There was a sweet party in her mouth as the felt the chocolate ganache mix with the buttercream in her tongue; it was such an enjoyable experience that she couldn't help but smile at the sweet taste. Thanking the kind owner of the bakery one more time, Marigold walked out and continued with her tour of San Ángel, watching as people sold their merchandise, potential buyers examining their stands and children playing around. She still couldn't believe her father thought these people could hurt anyone.

After a while, she arrived at the plaza with the statue of Captain Mondragon, she had heard he had died while protecting the town against a bandit thirty-three years ago, and he was a renowned revolutionary hero. Chakal was known among the Remembered, but none of them spoke fondly of him. She had overheard her father mentioning that name, it had something to do with the Pit.

Just as she was heading in the direction of the church, she heard something; the playing of a guitar, coming from under the statue. There was a young man playing the guitar sitting at the base of the statue, about seventeen years old. His fingers flew over the strings swiftly and drummed them in perfect synchrony. The teen had dark brown hair carefully combed back, and his amberish brown eyes were looking down at the guitar to see what he was doing. He wore a white shirt underneath a short-sleeved black jacket and white pants with a thick red belt-like cloth wrapped around his waist. His leather booths were stainless brown. When Marigold stopped examining his psyche, she noticed he was singing.

**_Sólo si pudiera estar contigo,_ **

**_Tú dormida entre mis brazos_ **

**_Y mirarte en el silencio_ **

**_Solo pudiera dibujarte_ **

**_Una escena de mis sueños_ **

**_Donde siempre estás presente_ **

Marigold instantly liked his voice. If her wings were not hidden her feathers would be twitching in delight, and his playing… The teen noticed he had caught the interest of a young lady, and he smiled kindly as he continued with his song.

_**Con solo tenerte aquí** _

_**Decirte lo que yo siento** _

Suddenly he stood up abruptly, his right foot over the base of the statue, his other foot leaning on the ground.

_**Es que me gusta tu cara, me gusta tu pelo** _

_**Soñar con tu voz cuando dices te quiero** _

_**Me gusta abrazarte, perderme en tu aroma** _

_**Poder encontrar en tus ojos el cielo** _

_**Me gusta tu risa, me gusta tu boca** _

_**Me gusta creer que por mi tu estas loca** _

_**Cómo quiero que sientas conmigo la calma** _

_**Y cuando llegue la noche** _

The young man finished the song by kneeling in front of Marigold and smiling up at her, making her giggle.

**_Cuidarte el alma_ **

As soon as the song was over, Marigold clapped her hands excitedly, squealing in delight. "That was amazing-!" But she didn't watch her step, and she lost her balance backwards on the small flight of stairs. "Whoa!" The young man quickly reacted and reached out to take her hand and stop her fall, but instead he fell with her. Both fell to the ground with a loud thud, and groaned in pained afterwards. Marigold quickly realized what had happened, and took a hand to her mouth in horror.

"Oh, _por dios_!" she cried out in dismay when she saw her companion groaning in pain next to her. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-!"

"Nonono, don't worry, I'm okay!" the young man replied softly, as he stood up, and held out a hand for her. "Here. Let me help you up."

Marigold stared at his hand for a few seconds, before she grabbed it with her and allowed the guitarrista to help her back to her feet. As soon as she felt her skin touch his, she blushed deeply, her skin nearly turning into a shade of red, and her heart started to drum.

"Are you new around here?" he inquired, picking up his guitar, but his eyes never leaving her. "I've never seen you around here before."

"Y-Yes… I've just arrived today, from La Capital…" Marigold stuttered. "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Juan Carlos Sánchez." He made a small bow.

Sánchez? Like Carmen and her family? Could he be one of their still-alive relatives?

"I'm Marigold… Díaz." Marigold replied, inventing a surname for herself. There was no way she would frighten off her new friend by telling him she was the daughter of Lord Xibalba, ruler of the Land of the Forgotten.

"If you'd like, I could show you around San Ángel." Juan Carlos spoke with a small smile.

"Y-You? I wouldn't like to be a bother-"

"Oh, no! Don't worry about it, I'll be more than glad to show you around. If that way I can avoid my sister…" Juan Carlos sighed in dismay at the last part, before lightening up. "So, what do you say?"

Marigold thought for a moment. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to hang out with him for a while, he could even take her to the proposal tree.

"Okay." She grinned.

She wondered if her father had taken notice she was missing, but prayed with all her might he hadn't.

* * *

 

 

The Candlemaker knew his time had come (at least that's what he considered) when he felt a dark presence enter the Cave of Souls, and a few seconds later Xibalba landed in the middle of the circular stone platform. At first sight, the Candlemaker could tell he was not very happy. He had a feeling to why he was here, but maybe it would be best to pretend he didn't.

"Hey, Balby!" the wax god floated down to the platform to meet the dark lord. "What brings you here-?"

"Where is she?" Xibalba growled curtly and harshly, his hands tightened into fists, his teeth turned into fangs.

"Who?" the Candlemaker inquired with a shrug, but cowered when Xibalba approached him threateningly. Even the Book of Life hid behind him.

"Who do you think? Marigold! Where are you hiding her?!"

"Me? I don't know what you are talking about-!"

Xibalba lost his patience and grabbed the Candlemaker by the beard, gritting his fangs. "Listen here, you wax head! My daughter was not in her room, she's not in my realm at all, and she can only be in one place, the one I forbad her to go to!"

"Come on, Balby, I swear I don't know where she could have gone…" the Candlemaker trembled when Xibalba's skull pupils rotated forward, and he could fell the dark god peek into his mind. Once he had what he wanted to know, Xibalba released the Candlemaker's beard and glared daggers at him, clutching on his staff, nearly breaking it.

"You sent her to the Land of the Living?!" Xibalba roared. "Under my nose?!"

"I'm sorry, I told her it wasn't a good idea but she wanted to go so badly I just couldn't say no!"

"Do you realize you could have sent her to the wolf's mouth?!"

Before the Candlemaker could say anything to reply, Xibalba rose into the air with a flap of his wings and disappeared in a swirl of darkness. He and the Book of Life glanced at each other worriedly.

Marigold was in big trouble.

* * *

 

"Wow, so you come from a family of bullfighters?" Marigold asked, as she and her new friend made their way towards the first place she had asked him to show her: the Proposal Tree, despite his insistence that there were other places that were much more interesting.

"Yeah, my father's father, my father's father's father, and so on." Juan Carlos explained. "It's a sort of family tradition."

"What about your father? Isn't he a bullfighter?"

"He was going to, but he didn't like the idea of killing bulls. Instead he became a guitarrista, and I'm kind of in between."

"In between?"

"I mean, I love playing the guitar, but I would like to follow the family tradition and become a bullfighter. But my mother doesn't like the idea."

"Your mother?"

"I'll introduce you to her later. If you met her you'd think she's very stubborn and hot-tempered, but once you get to know her you realize she has a heart of gold."

Marigold couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness when he spoke about his mother.

"By the way, why do you want to see that tree so badly?" Juan Carlos inquired curiously. "The arena and the cemetery are much more interesting than that old tree."

"I've always wanted to see that tree ever since I was a little girl. It's where my parents met when they were kids."

"I thought you came from La Capital."

"Oh, _sí_!" Marigold panicked. "I mean, I am, but my parents grew up here. When they grew up they got married and moved to La Capital."

Thankfully, Juan Carlos accepted the answer. "Did you come here by yourself? Or did you come with your parents?"

Marigold wasn't sure if she should answer that question, but she opted to do so or he would suspect. "I came here with my father."

"And your mother?"

Marigold stopped in her tracks. "She… She died when I was a baby, when I was born."

Juan Carlos gasped in embarrassment. "Lo siento mucho, I didn't know… I…"

"It's okay, I don't blame you…" Marigold felt her eyes swelling up with tears. "I don't remember anything about her, but I wish I did… My father hasn't overcome it even after all these years."

"You are very close to him, are you?"

"Yes. He had to raise me on his own while having two jobs at the same time."

"Two jobs? Wow, he must be very strong to have had two jobs wile looking after you."

"He is." Marigold wiped her tears with her arms with a small smile. "To most people he appears cold, strict and one might even say heartless, but he's actually very loving and affectionate."

"Well, there it is."

When they arrived at the end of the bridge, Marigold gasped in awe at the sight. The tree was beautiful, and very large. The light of the setting sun gave the green leaves a yellowish glow, as well as the wood of the thick trunk. There was something in the atmosphere that made it feel… romantic, maybe this was what drew her parents together in the first place. Juan Carlos stared at Marigold, dazzled by her beauty, now that they were under the shade of this particular tree. It was as if the tree itself had some sort of love enchantment. He was captivated by how the last rays of sunlight got caught into her raven lack hair, and toned down her fair skin to an almost almond tone. The curiosity and fascination in her eyes made her look even more beautiful.

Marigold ran a hand over the wood of the trunk, taking in every detail.

"Well, I admit, Marigold." Juan Carlos finally spoke, out of his trance. "This tree is a beautiful scenery at dusk or at dawn; in fact, my parents said many men proposed to their wives at the shadow of this tree, my father included." Juan Carlos chuckled at this.

"It's just as I imagined it to be…" Marigold whispered in awe. "I wouldn't be surprised if my father also proposed to my mother here too."

"It's almost as if this place was…"

"Magical?"

"Yes, that's it."

Marigold and Juan Carlos glanced at each other with a shy smile, until they realized the sun had set. "We should go back, or you'll miss the celebration."

"Celebration?" Marigold blinked. "What celebration?"

"Well, in reality the actual celebration is on the Day of the Dead, but the townspeople always throw a party for the whole week before, and then in the Day of the Dead the real party takes place."

"Day of the Dead?" Marigold giggled. "That's the date of my birthday."

"No way! _En serio_?"

" _Sí_. Speaking of coincidences… What is so important that people celebrate for a whole week?"

"The defeat of Chakal, the Bandit King, of course! Have you not heard of it?"

Marigold blushed in embarrassment. "Not really, my father doesn't tell me much about those things."

"Well, you're going to love the party! All townspeople will attend, and we can introduce each other to our families!"

"Oh, yeah…" Marigold shivered internally.

"Come on, it should be starting right now! If we don't hurry we'll miss the all-you-can-eat- _churros_ stand-"

" _CHURROS_!"

Juan Carlos yelped in surprise when Marigold grabbed his hand and dragged him across the bridge with a surprising strength.

She was so excited she failed to see a two-headed purple snake peeking at them from the water.

* * *

 

 

When he was certain they were gone, Ponzoña swam towards the edge of the down and slid up the stone walls, across streets, through dark alleys, until he arrived to his destination. It let out a hiss to let his master know he had returned. Xibalba bent down and allowed his snake to slither unto his arm, and straightened back up, lifting his arm so Ponzoña was close to his head.

"Did you find her?" he inquired.

Ponzoña stretched out his neck and whispered hisses into his master's ear. Xibalba's eyes widened.

"She's with WHO?!"

Ponzoña nearly jumped at his master's reaction.

"Wait until I get my hands on that boy! Did you hear where they would go?!"

Ponzoña hissed into Xibalba's ear once more, this time the god didn't freak out (thankfully). It seemed he would have to take matters into his own hands; while still angry at his daughter for breaking her promise to him (he would talk with her about this later), maybe this was the perfect chance for her to fulfill her wish. Only, he had one condition.

Xibalba turned into a ball of tar and zoomed out of the alley, in the direction of the music.


	24. The 'Outside' World Part 3

The night was boiling with lights, decorations and, overall dancing and music. Marigold almost thought it was like one of those parties thrown at the Land of the Remember, only much smaller and not so grandiose. Still, the sight of the townspeople being so happy and together made her heart warm up; but the best part was food in the set up tables. She stuffed herself with tacos, tamales, atole, but overall churros. So much, she had completely forgotten about her father. Juan Carlos led her through the dancing crowd towards one of the benches at the side of the plaza where parents watched as their children played with one another, dancing with the mariachi music.

"Where are we going?" Marigold inquired.

"I'd like you to meet my parents." Juan Carlos replied. "They're over… there!"

The both of them rushed towards one occupied bench. Marigold saw a woman with long dark brown hair, golden brown eyes and a red skirt with a white blouse, accompanied by a man with black hair, dark brown eyes and black jacket and pants, with a red tie. With them was a girl of about eleven years old. She had short black hair and her mother's eyes, and wore a pink dress with red flowers. The three stared at Juan Carlos when they noticed he had brought a friend.

"Hey, _mijo_ , who's that _linda señorita_?" the man, probably his father, inquired, before the woman shot him a playfully jealous look. "What?"

"Mamá, papá, this is Marigold." Juan Carlos replied, motioning at her. "She's just arrived from La Capital with her father."

" _Mucho gusto_ ," Marigold curtsied as she was taught as a child. " _Señor_ y _señora_ …"

"Oh, sorry, I'm María, and this is my husband Manolo." The woman smiled kindly at Marigold, before she and her husband got a little cuddly.

"Mamá! Papá! That's gross!" the eleven year old girl stuck her tongue, making the two adults, and Juan Carlos, laugh.

"This is our daughter, Cristina." Manolo ruffled his daughter's hair. "And I suppose you already know Juan Carlos."

Marigold nodded her head eagerly. "Yes."

"Hey, Marigold, speaking of it, have you seen your father around here?" Juan Carlos asked, glancing at the disguised Goddess. "I'd like to meet him."

"My father is not the party-goer type…" Marigold sighed. "Knowing him, he's probably in his study, doing paperwork." She recalled her younger birthdays, when her father would calmly watch as she enjoyed herself as she played, but would rarely join in. Oh, dear, speaking of her father, she was certain he had found out she was missing by then. She wouldn't be surprised if he had sent all his pack of hounds to track her down and find her.

Xibalba watched from atop the roof of a nearby house, close enough to hear what they were saying, his eyes wide in shock upon learning who the boy's parents were. He just couldn't believe it, it was as if the universe was out to get him or something. He didn't want his baby near that boy! Ponzoña was looking at him skeptically.

"What?" Xibalba inquired at his pet. "He might want to influence Marigold to turn into a guitarrista! Besides, look at him, he's just like his father!"

Ponzoña simply shook both heads.

"I'm not sending you to scare off the boy away from Marigold, if that's what's worrying you. No, I'll handle this myself."

With these words, Xibalba turned into a ball of tar and zoomed off from the roof into a dark alley.

"You father sounds the overprotective type." Juan Carlos chuckled softly.

"You have no idea." Marigold sighed in dismay. "He didn't want me to come at all."

"He's worse than my papi…" Cristina commented, making the whole Sánchez family laugh as Manolo ruffled his daughter's hair once more.

Marigold was thinking about that when a different music called her attention. The looked at the mariachi, three men of different height and weight wearing red mariachi jackets over white clothing, with brown hair and beards or moustaches were starting a new song. Manolo knew it was his cue.

"Good luck, Manolo!" María waved her hand at her husband as he took his guitar and went to join the Rodriguez brothers. Marigold couldn't help but go closer to the band and started dancing according to the rhythm of the music. It was the first time she danced in an authentic party in the Land of the Living! Her excitement was so much, she dragged every person that approached her to join her dance. She soon joined a great group of people, who started doing steps she soon learned in the blink of an eye. It was like a synchronized dance that didn't take her that long to comprehend, and soon she started doing the whole dance.

María noticed the look her son was giving Marigold, and she instantly knew what it meant. "Dance with her, _mijo_."

Juan Carlos gave his mother a look of surprise, his cheeks flaring up in embarrassment. "Mamá! She's just a friend!"

María smiled. "I know that look, Juan Carlos. You like her very much."

Before Juan Carlos could protest any further, Cristina quickly stood from the bench and pushed him to the middle of the dance floor, where soon everyone got him to join the dance. The couple dancing started. Juan Carlos wanted to dance with Marigold, but everytime he approached her someone else took her, and Marigold seemed to have the same problem. The guitarist was thinking on how special was that black-haired girl, who made everyone around her happy in an almost natural way. Everyone around her looked happy. How did she do that?

Finally, between the sound of music and the dancing steps, Marigold and Juan Carlos ended up together, in each other's arms, looking deeply into each other. For a second, time stopped and it was only the two of them. The shrill of happiness around them was nothing compared to that sensation of wellbeing and plenitude that flooded their hearts when they felt their hands intertwined.

They were abruptly brought back from reality when Marigold felt tapping on her shoulder, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. As she turned around to see who wanted to talk with her, she froze in shock and a small twinge of fear.

"P-Papá?!"

Xibalba had taken the form of a brown-skinned tall man in his forties, with white short hair carefully combed back, but his moustache and beard remained the same. He wore a dark suit and long pants that contrasted the lively colors all around them, almost making the atmosphere feel darker, along with black leather boots, and a contrasting green tie. A white-gloved hand was clutching unto Ponzoña –now turned into a normal cane, but still with one of the heads-, the other behind his back. His back was straight, his chest puffing out, his white eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown, his eyes turned into a deep crimson color.

Juan Carlos felt a shiver run down his spine when he took a look at the man who was Marigold's father, and didn't like the way he was looking at him; definitely, he had the word 'overprotective' written all over his face.

"May I know what you're doing with my daughter?" the man spoke with a deep voice, his gaze a beam of disapproval.

"W-Well, I w-was…" Juan Carlos found difficult to speak with the man glaring daggers at him.

"We were just dancing, papi!" Marigold rescued him.

"Well, sweetie, I hope you enjoyed it, because it's time to go _home_." Xibalba grabbed his daughter's arm gently but tightly and started pulling her away, but Marigold resisted.

"W-Wait!" she pleaded. "This place is not like what you thought! It's not dangerous!"

"Don't dig yourself a deeper grave, Marigold." He simply said; if he were in his godly form his teeth would have been sharp. "You and I have _a lot_ to talk about."

"At least let me say goodbye!"

Xibalba looked back at his daughter with a frown, but he was actually thinking about it.

"… Very well. But do it fast."

As soon as he released her arm, Marigold ran back to Juan Carlos's side, and gave him an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry for that, Juan Carlos. I didn't mean-"

"Don't worry, everyone goes through that at least once in their lives." Juan Carlos sighed, remembering when his mother dragged him by the ear out of a bar his friends had taken him to when he was thirteen. "I guess I'll see you soon."

"I hope so, if papá doesn't put bars on my windows and locks on my doors." Marigold thought to herself, but merely nodded her head at her new friend. "Yes, I will."

"Are you sure your father won't-?"

"No, don't worry about me. He would never do that."

"Marigold!" Xibalba called out for his daughter. "Let's go!"

Though deep inside she was terrified of confronting her father after having disobeyed him, she knew she had no other choice. She had constantly heard of a side of her father she had never known, and she wasn't eager to meet that side of him if he was going to show it to her.

"See you later!" she called out at Juan Carlos as she returned to her father.

Juan Carlos could only watch as Marigold's father grabbed her arm gently, and led her away. She had been right when she told him that to others he seemed very cruel and cold-hearted, but he still couldn't get over the chill he felt when he felt those crimson eyes on him. He was very protective of her, it seemed, if he made all of this fuss just because he caught his daughter dancing with someone. Then again, he had lost his wife and had to raise his daughter on his own, so it was natural that he was so protective with her.

He just hoped he would get to see her again.

* * *

 

After looking for a dark place with no people around, Xibalba transported both himself and his daughter back to the Land of the Forgotten, his chambers specifically, back in their original forms. As soon as they arrived, Xibalba looked down at his daughter with narrowed eyes, clutching on Ponzoña with one hand and his other hand resting on his hip. "What do you have to say for yourself, _jovencita_?" his voice was colder than the coldest iceberg, with a tinge of repressed anger.

"Okay, papá, I shouldn't have gone to the Land of the Living without your permission, but-"

"Don't tell me what I want to hear, Marigold. It's not going to work."

"You left me with no choice! I asked you for the past fourteen years to take me there, but you never did! You always found a excuse!"

"Marigold, have you ever put yourself in my shoes?!" Xibalba snapped back with sharp teeth. "You are my ONLY daughter! You are my everything! If something had happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with it!"

"Please, papá!" Marigold lifted up her arms and extended out her wings in exasperation. "I spent nearly half a day there, and I didn't find anyone who would hurt a fly! They were all very nice people!"

"You think that because you don't know what humans are truly like!"

"Oh, and you do?!"

"I have lived far more than you, my child, I know more than you do about humankind! I have seen kingdoms rise and fall because of disputes between humans! I have seen them backstab each other for power or wealth, I have seen them corrupt whatever they touch!"

"ARGH! It's not fair!" Marigold cried out in pure frustration. "I only asked you one thing! It wasn't that hard!"

Xibalba grit his teeth and fangs, his wings trembling with ire. "That is no excuse for you to just runaway like that!"

"I wouldn't have if you weren't so exaggerate! Mamá would have let me go!"

"Do _NOT_ mess your mother into this conversation, _jovencita_! This is between you and me!"

"I'm not three years old anymore, papá! I'm fourteen!"

"Then start acting like it!"

"Everytime I try you restrain me!"

"WHEN WILL YOU UNDERSTAND I'M JUST TRYING TO PROTECT YOU?!"

"THEN DON'T PROTECT ME!"

**SMACK!**

What happened next was a blur for them both. Marigold felt a burning in her left cheek when her father's palm came into contact with it, so strong it sent her to the ground in the blink of an eye. Xibalba didn't know what happened, what came over him when he struck his daughter's cheek, but he didn't realize what he did until it was too late, until he found his daughter on the ground, her hand touching the reddened spot of her cheek, and her eyes swelled up with tears as she looked up at him with fear; only in his worst nightmares had she looked at him that way. His eyes widened in horror as his father's words echoed in the back of his mind.

_Sooner or later, be it tomorrow or in a hundred years, you will become like me._

No… Did he just…?

"M-Marigold… I…" he tried to touch her, but he swatted his hand away with all the grief and anger in the whole.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" she screamed at him, her wings flaring out, tears streaming down her face, and she immediately took of, slamming the doors open and flying out.

"Marigold, wait!" Xibalba immediately took off after her, but he couldn't catch up to her; he managed to see as she flew into her room and slammed the doors shut, locking it with a spell. He landed in front of the doors and knocked them with desperation.

"Marigold, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to struck you! Please, let me in!"

"GO AWAY!"

"I didn't want to do it! Please, listen to me!"

"Leave me alone!" Marigold hugged her knees, her back against her door, her wings hugging her body protectively; her fingers touched the red mark her father's large hand had left, her heart broken in two. She couldn't believe he had actually smacked her; weeping, she hid her face into her knees.

Xibalba was in a similar position; he sobbed as he allowed his body to slide to the floor, his wings drooping at the sides, his face and his hands still against the door. Similarly, he felt like an axe had come upon his soul as tears streamed down his cheeks, despite his eyes being closed shut, hoping with all his might that this was just a nightmare.

"I'm sorry…" he sobbed, his claws digging into the doors. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… Please forgive me…"

_"Would you ever hit me…?"_

_"No! I don't want you to ever think I would ever raise a hand against you, pequeña. You're my everything, mi bebé, mi luz, I would never lay a hand on you."_

Xibalba stiffened upon remembering those words, and it only intensified the pain and regret. Now it was he who had broken a promise.


	25. Forgiveness

_Five month-old Marigold wailed loudly in her crib, struggling to get the blankets off her as if they were the monsters that just disturbed her sleep. Tiny tears rolled down her cheeks and her little nose sniffled. Xibalba didn't usually like to be awakened at two in the morning by anyone, but as soon as he heard his daughter crying, he threw his covers off his body, stood from bed and walked towards the crib to take a peek to what was causing his baby's distress with tired eyes. Marigold was so immersed in her crying she didn't notice her father's presence._

_"Shhhh, sh-sh-sh-sh." Xibalba cooed gently as he took her in his arms and held her against his chest before bouncing her. " **Esta bién, mi florecita. Papi esta aquí**." _

_Marigold buried her face into her father's chest, muffling her cries and sobs, her little hand clutching the collar of his purple bathrobe. She must have had a pretty bad dream to be crying like this. Xibalba sat down on his rocking chair and swayed it with his wings, patting Marigold's back and shushing her gently, but she still cried. After a while and after trying everything, Xibalba decided to try another thing. Snapping his fingers, the dark god summoned a long, small, purple-colored snake plush with button eyes, black stripes running down its back and a pink tongue sewn at the mouth._

_"Marigold, look." Xibalba shook the plush snake over his daughter, and it made a rattling sound. "I was saving this for your birthday, but you can have it now if you'd like"_

_Marigold lifted her face from its hiding place in her father's chest, and looked up at the rattling plush snake with glossy eyes. She stared curiously at it, her wide red pupils glued unto it, before she smiled a toothless grin and reached out for the snake plush, giggling. Xibalba smiled as he shook the snake plush over Marigold's head in a playful manner, before setting it down and letting her take it from his grasp. "I'm glad you liked it, **mi florecita**. His name is Rattles, he'll take care of you when I'm not around." _

_"Dadlees…." Marigold blurted out, then she started nibbling on the snake plush._

_Xibalba chuckled and snuggled his daughter deeply into his embrace, stroking her saliva-stained cheek with his thumb gingerly, still swaying his rocking chair with his wings._

**_A la roro niña_ **

**_A la roro ya_ **

**_Duérmete mi niña_ **

**_Duérmete mi amor_ **

_Marigold's little eyes started to shutter as her father sang and lulled her to sleep; she let out a small yawn as she rested her head against her father's chest, pulling Rattles closer to her and snuggling her face into it. It took a while before she finally fell asleep. Carefully, Xibalba stood from his rocking chair and walked towards Marigold's cradle, lay her unto it and tucked her in, careful so that she still held Rattles. Finally, he bent down and planted a kiss on Marigold's cheek, making her giggle in her sleep._

_" **Dulces sueños, mi bebé**."_

* * *

 

It had been a week.

A week, and she hadn't come out of her room, not even to eat. No, Rodrigo and the other lizards took up her meals to her room, and she'd let them in. But not her father. Xibalba couldn't help but feel pangs of hurt and jealously when she opened her doors to others, but not him. She'd let the servitude, Garra and Colmillo, even Ponzoña, in, but not him. He'd stay for hours outside, pleading, even begging her, to come out, but she wouldn't budge. He'd often heard sobbing coming from the inside, and it killed him. Because he was the cause of it.

He regretted what he'd done deeply, he wished there was some way he could fix it, but she didn't want to see him. He'd thought about telling Emilio to ask her what he could do so she'd listen to him, but Marigold went into a yelling fit and kicked out anyone who mentioned her father. She didn't want to hear from him, she was too hurt. So, Xibalba spent those endless hours alone, missing his daughter's laughter, her smile, her hugs and kisses.

He knocked on the door for the fifth time that day with one hand, holding a plate with a dark-colored flan in the other. "Sweetie, are you in there?" No reply. "I brought you some chocolate flan, the one you liked when you were small." Before, Marigold would squeal in delight and get up from bed in a flash to retrieve her favorite dessert, but now he heard no sound coming from within. He had hoped her favorite treat would make her come out, but it didn't work. "I… I'll leave it here for you in case you get hungry." He placed the plate on a small decorative table just next to her door. "If you need anything, I'll be in my chambers, okay?"

Still no reply. The silence was killing him. It took him a great effort to keep his eyes dry.

" _Buenas noches, mi florecita_."

Xibalba turned around and glided down the hallway, giving one last glance at the door, until he turned around the corner. As soon as she was certain he was out of earshot, Marigold slowly pulled her door open, and stared at the direction her father had left. He was not the only one who was suffering, she missed her father terribly too; but then she remembered the way he had struck her, and everytime she did so, her cheek burned. She didn't even have the craving for the chocolate flan.

Meanwhile, Ponzoña had been deeply asleep when he heard his master coming in, and lifted both its heads from the hat stand in curiosity. He watched as Xibalba headed to his bookshelves and pulled out a tome; by the time the snake slid down the hat stand and went to him, Xibalba had already sat down in his rocking chair and flipped through the pages of the thick tome, yet another photo album. But this was not the one with the pictures of himself and La Muerte; Ponzoña slid up his rocking chair and his master's cloak and found his way to his lap, finding himself staring at the pictures of Marigold when she was a baby.

"They grow up so fast, don't they, boy?" Xibalba gently spoke at his snake, with a touch of sadness in his voice. "She was so small…"

He glanced at every picture dearly, some of them depicting Marigold as a newborn sleeping in her crib or in his arms, others as a six month old crawling up his chest to play with his moustache, tormenting Ponzoña and even climbing unto Garra or Colmillo's back, bringing back fond memories.

Xibalba couldn't help but chuckle sadly when he found the picture of Marigold's first birthday; she had a party hat of pastel colors on top of her head that had fallen over her eyes (since it was ridiculously big for her little head, or maybe her head was too small to fit properly in it because she had been too young), sitting on top of his bed; she was giggling as she played with Rattles, the plush he had given her as a birthday present. Xibalba felt his eyes tearing up with heart ache as he ran a finger on Marigold's chubby cheek in the picture, recalling those years when she needed him so much, but he hadn't realized he needed her just as much, or even more. Xibalba closed his eyes as the memories came back.

* * *

 

_"Shhhhh." The dark God cooed at his whimpering child, bouncing her in his arms and stroking her little head with his thumb. " **No llores, mi florecita**. Papi's not letting anything happen to you."_

* * *

 

_Marigold giggled wildly from her little seat in the dining hall, all dirty with apple puree, as her father tried to feed her some more puree without getting himself any dirtier. "Here comes the **trenecito**! Choo-choo!" he approached the spoonful of puree to Marigold's mouth, and laughed when she took it all into her mouth._

* * *

 

_"Come on, Marigold! Stay still!" Xibalba struggled to bathe his daughter, but she was making it more difficult with her playful splashes; the only problem, she was drenching him. Still, he couldn't contain a chuckle when she tried to touch the forming bubbles, only to stare in confusion as they popped._

* * *

 

 

_Xibalba gently picked up his whimpering daughter from the floor, and planted a small kiss on her hurt hand, before smiling down at her. "There. Better, **pequeña**?" He got a small giggle as a reply._

* * *

 

What if things were never the same again? What if she never forgave him for what he did? He was dying for her to speak to him, but she just kept shutting him out. One thing was for certain, he'd never forgive himself for laying a hand on her. La Muerte would never forgive him, from wherever she was now. But he wouldn't bear if his daughter didn't forgive him. He needed to think a bit of what to do. Placing the photo album aside, Xibalba stood up from the chair and opened the doors to his balcony, walking out. Ponzoña's heads hissed in worry at him.

"It's okay, Ponzoña." Xibalba looked back at his snake reassuringly. "I won't do anything stupid again. I'm just going to think things over a bit."

With those last words, Xibalba took off with a flap of his wings and flew to the top of the tallest tower his castle had, the only place he knew he could be alone. Like a brokenhearted zombie, he landed on top of the stone ceiling and sat down, hugging his knees and his wings resting against his body. Even from this height, the Land of the Forgotten lacked any kind of pretty landscapes, everything was still the same; The same gray colors, the same jagged landscape, the same lake of lava around his castle… nothing ever changed in his realm.

He felt a presence next to him. He casually turned around to see if any of his servants had found a way up, but he was surprised (and delighted) to find Marigold instead, in a similar position to his; however, his joy evaporated and was replaced by hurt when she inched away from him, trembling slightly.

Marigold felt bad when she saw the hurt expression on her father's face when she moved away, but she was still trying to get over what happened a week ago. None of them said anything for a while, and instead just remained like that, staring into the horizon. When they did speak, it felt awkward and it was at the same time.

"Marigold, I-"

" _Padre_ , I-"

Xibalba froze. "What did you just call me?"

" _Padre_." Marigold looked at her father with a strange look, as if she was surprised by how he reacted. He looked like he had been physically struck.

"No." Xibalba said firmly. "Don't call me that. I'm not your _padre_."

Marigold's eyes were swelling up with tears at those words, and she trembled in dread. Was he that angry at her. And he didn't even react.

"Do you know what a _padre_ is? A _padre_ is nothing. He planted a seed. That's it. Any man can be a _padre_. A _padre_ isn't important or special. A _padre_ is meaningless." Suddenly, his features softened. "But a _papá_ … A _papá_ is something else entirely." Xibalba smiled fondly and Marigold found herself calming down. " _Papá_ isn't a title you can just claim. You can't demand it or buy it. You have to earn it. When your newborn baby cries in the middle of the night, it is a _padre_ who goes to sleep. A _papá_ trudges out of bed, no matter how tired he is, gets a bottle and sings as his little daughter fills her belly. When she is learning her first words or taking her first step, a _papá_ is there to encourage her and cheer her on. When her heart is broken a _papá_ cries with her. When she succeeds a _papá_ is right there, cheering her on. And once you earn that title it is yours… because a _papá_ never lets go of his children and he never abandons them."

Marigold was weeping by then, her body bouncing as she sobbed, looking at her father with guilt-ridden and teary eyes.

"So no… I'm not your _padre_. I'm your _papá_ and nothing you or the Devil or the anyone else says will make me stop being your _papá_." Xibalba was weeping too, tears falling unto the black tiles of the roof. "I know I screwed up… I may be a God but that doesn't make me perfect, even Gods screw up sometimes. I messed up really badly but I will always come back and always make it right. Because I'm your _papá_. Got it?"

Marigold managed a watery smile despite her cracking heart. "Got it."

Despite the contradictory tears, Xibalba smiled at his child and gave her the tender look she knew so well. "Can I get a hug from my _bebita_ now? I've been wanting to get one these days."

That was the last straw. Marigold flung herself into her father's arms and wrapped her arms around his neck as she cried openly, burying her face into his chest plate. Xibalba in turn pulled her into his lap and wrapped both his arms and wings protectively around her, not wanting to let go of her ever again. The both of them cried openly, after days of being apart from each other. Xibalba hesitated, but he gingerly stroked Marigold's cheek with his claw-like fingers (the cheek he had struck); Marigold trembled and tried to pull away from him, but he pulled her even closer to his body.

"I'm so sorry, _mi pequeña_ …" Xibalba sobbed with a broken heart. "Please forgive me…I didn't meant to hurt you…" He stroked his daughter's hair softly.

Marigold sobbed louder, and she touched her father's cheek with her hand as she looked up at him. Red met red, not with anger, but with love. "Please don't cry, papi… it makes me sad…"

Xibalba smiled down at his daughter and wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb, as tenderly like he was touching a fragile rose, before both returned to their embrace.

"I'm sorry, papá…" now it was Marigold's turn to sob. "I didn't mean any of those things I said…"

"Shhhh…" the dark good cooed gently. "Sh-sh-sh. It's okay, _mi florecita_. I was partly to blame for that; I pushed you too far. It's just, I still can't believe you're growing up so fast…" Xibalba smiled fondly. "I still remember when you were a baby… You were such a tiny thing that I could hold you in one hand."

"I'm not a baby anymore, papá…"

"I know, _mi florecita_..." Xibalba thought for a moment, before looking down at his daughter. "Tell you what, sweetie. I'll let you visit the Land of the Living more often, if you promise me you'll always tell me before."

Marigold's whole face brightened as she looked up at her father with hopeful eyes. "A-Are you serious, papá…?" when he nodded, she immediately peppered his face with butterfly kisses and hugged him tightly, with a strength comparable to that of her mother's. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, papi!"

Xibalba felt the air leave his lungs when Marigold squeezed his ribcage, but he nevertheless returned the embrace. When she released her hold on him, he spoke again. "Well, sweetie, how about we go downstairs to get some chocolate flan?" he grinned when he saw the look on Marigold's face.

"You're on!" she jumped from the roof and dove down, opening her wings in the last moment to glide through the sky.

Xibalba soon went after her at his own pace, the two of them laughing all the way back inside.


	26. Bonus Chapter: Babysitting Blues

**Okay, everyone, listen up.**

**This is not an epilogue, but a bonus chapter. The last chapter was the previous one. Summary: Emilio, Juarez, and Roberto are charged by Xibalba to babysit ten-month old Marigold while he goes out for a while. It can't be that bad can it?**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

 

Emilio and the other lizards trembled under their master's questioning, severe glare, fearing that any wrong word might turn them into ash and dust just like the souls that wandered outside. Even Garra and Colmillo sensed the threatening air of their master, and tried to hide behind the lizards. Behind Xibalba, Zipacna and the Candlemaker were staring at the lizards with nervous and anxious eyes. Around them, the dining hall was a complete mess. Plates broken, food stains nearly everywhere, marks of fire and scattered, lone rose petals everywhere. Even the lizards were all stained and dirty with food.

"I asked you three a question." Xibalba narrowed his eyes at his servants, one hand clenching Ponzoña, the other behind his back. "Where's my daughter?"

The three lizards looked at each other with resignation. Emilio gulped, the fins at the sides of his head drooping.

_Dios me ayude._

* * *

 

_Ten hours earlier_

* * *

 

"Come on, _hermanito_! It'll be fun!"

"No."

"You need to entertain yourself! When was the last time you went to a party?"

"I don't know, and I don't care."

"It'll be good for the both of you!"

"Good?" Xibalba temporally drove his attention away from his ten month-old daughter, gently placing her in her high chair, then turning to glare at his older brother. "How can abandoning my daughter be good?!"

"You're not abandoning her, man!" the Candlemaker retorted. "You're just taking a little break for yourself. What you're doing it's not healthy, just look at how Tláloc turned out for not having time for himself!"

"Don't remind me." Zipacna grumbled, crossing his arms.

"I can't just leave her like that! It could affect her psychologically!" Xibalba continued with his ranting.

"You are exaggerating, _hermanito_! It'll only be for a few hours, then you come back and everyone's happy! Nothing bad will happen to her!"

"Oh, _claro_! Easy for you to say! Since you've never been a single father before, you don't know how stressing it can be to be away from your child without knowing she's okay! Marigold needs me!"

Zipacna squinted his eyes and crossed his arms. "It looks like the other way around."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"No offense, Balby, but Book says that you need her more than she actually needs you." The Candlemaker commented, before cowering behind the Book of Life when the dark god growled at him.

"How dare you-! For your information, I can stay away from her when I want to! I could go out and have fun in the Land of the Living wherever I want!" as he rambled about it, he made his way to the doors of the dining hall, and walked out slamming the doors shut. But as soon as she lost sight of her father, Marigold sobbed and soon started to cry, reaching out her arms towards the doors.

In a fraction of second Xibalba burst through the doors and flew to his daughter's side. "No, no, no, _mi florecita_! Papi _está aquí_." He took her in his arms, and held her against his chest. Marigold buried her face into his neck, still letting out sobs, her little wings trying to wrap around her father despite the difference in size. Xibalba then noticed the amused looks on Zipacna and the Candlemaker's faces. "What?"

"See?" Zipacna lifted up his arms. "It's okay that you love her very much and you worry about her, but you can't let that affect your life all the time! You must have at least a bit of time for yourself!"

Xibalba let out a growl of dismay and frustration, before looking over at his brother. "Even if I wanted to who would look after my Marigold? I can't just leave her with some stranger, she'll get scared!"

"It doesn't have to be a stranger." The Candlemaker replied. "How about you leave your servants in charge of her?"

"Them? You think I'm going to entrust my only daughter to them?"

"Well, who looked after Marigold the first days of her life when you were…" the Candlemaker didn't know how to put it without making Xibalba angry. "Sore."

"Yeah, yeah, I got the point." Xibalba sighed. "Fine. I'll do it, but I don't have to like it."

"It's good enough that you come out for me." Zipacna nodded with a grin.

Xibalba looked down at Marigold as she started to fidget with his beard, and couldn't contain a small smile as she gurgled and cooed. He had to think in who of his servants were the most responsible for this; Emilio was the first he thought of, of course, but who else?

 

Twenty minutes later, Emilio, Juarez and Roberto were standing in their master's chambers, nervous under Xibalba's cold, hard stare. Marigold was in her crib, playing with Rattles and giggling every time the plus snake rattled when she shook it. They had an idea on what their master wanted from them.

"I called you three because I am in the need of a babysitter for a few hours, and unfortunately, there wasn't anyone else available. You should be honored that I consider you to be the most responsible out of everyone here." Xibalba finally spoke, his hands behind his back. "I'm trusting you with my daughter's safety, so I hope you won't disappoint me."

"Don't worry, My Lord! We'll handle this like a piece of cake!" Roberto saluted at his master with a puffed up chest and crest.

"You better, you three." Xibalba's tone became dark. "If I find _one_ _single_ _scratch_ on my daughter when I return…" he bent down a bit to narrow his eyes down a his servants. "…I'll personally make sure that you spend the rest of eternity as miserably as the souls in the Pit, even worse. Am I clear?" his teeth turned into fangs.

"Y-Yes, My Lord…" Emilio gulped.

"Good."

Marigold temporally drove her attention away from Rattles, and peeked over the wooden bars of her crib. Her little eyes fixed on her father as she extended out her arms for him. "Pa,pa…" she mumbled.

His daughter's voice immediately softened the dark god. Xibalba flew to the side of the crib and picked Marigold up, looking into her eyes with a tenderness and love he never showed to anyone else. "Oh, don't worry, _mi florecita_. Papi's going out for a while, but you'll be okay." He laughed softly when she responded by grasping unto his moustache. "Be a good baby while I'm gone, _sí_?" he planted a kiss on her forehead before setting her down on her crib yet again. He became a little sad and guilty when Marigold whimpered and reached out her little hands for him. "See you later, _mi pequeña_."

"Hey, _hermanito_! Are you done yet?!" Zipacna called out from the outside. "Let's go before they run out of snacks!"

Sighing sadly, Xibalba glided away from the crib, past his servants and out of his chambers, closing the door behind him; in a flash of light, the three gods outside the chambers were gone.

"Well, what do we do now?" Juarez inquired shrugging.

Marigold's eyes welled up with tears when she lost sight of her father, and it didn't take long before she started to cry openly, calling out for her father. "PA-PAAAHH!" She even rattled the bars of her little crib violently, her wings flapping wildly. The skeleton lizards instantly panicked and rushed to the crib, Roberto picking Marigold up from her crib with one hand, and Rattles with the other. He shook the stuffed snake over her to try and calm her down, but for once it was not working.

"What do we do?!" Juarez panicked.

"Lord Xibalba left a list on what to do, maybe there's something there that can help!" Emilio pointed out, rushing to the bedside table and taking a long parchment of scroll from a top of it and unrolled it; it was ridiculously long, it reached the floor and dripped along the floor. Emilio searched through the scroll and found something that could help.

**'If for any reason Marigold cries, entertain her with Rattles or with any of her favorite toys. But make sure she doesn't nibble on them'.**

"Give her the plush!" Emilio stated.

"What do you think I'm doing?!" Juarez retorted, shaking Rattles over Marigold's head to no avail.

"PA-PAAAH!"

"Oh, great, any other ideas?!" Roberto raised his voice.

Emilio and Juarez glanced at each other, and they sped up towards the box where Xibalba kept his daughter's toys. One minute later they were trying to soothe Marigold down with her snake rattle, a noisy-rubber ball and a crow doll; Marigold's attention shifted to the crow doll, overall to its dark feathers that reminded her of her father's wings. The three lizards sighed in relief when she reached out for the crow doll… but panicked when she took it into her mouth.

"Nonono! No nibbling, jovencita!" Emilio tried to take the doll out of Marigold's mouth, but trembled when she sobbed as he did so. "Sorry, but your father said 'no nibbling on toys."

"Come on, Emilio! I don't think it'll do her any harm to nibble on a simple plush!" Roberto stated.

"Actually, there have been cases of children who choked to death because they took toys to their mouths." Juarez retorted.

"Exactly!" Emilio stated. "Then it's decided! No nibbling, _princesa_!" with this, the lizard took the crow doll out of Marigold's mouth. Roberto, however, panicked when she started to cry and wiggle in his hold again, and tried to take the crow doll from Emilio.

"Nothing's going to happen to her! We'll make sure the doll doesn't choke her!"

Soon the two were fighting over the doll, while Marigold's pupils followed it.

"It's too risky!"

"Don't exaggerate!"

"Exxagerate?! Did you forget what Lord Xibalba said?! If something happens to her it'll be our necks!"

"Guys!" Juarez snapped. "Stop pulling the doll like that! You're going to-!"

Cloth ripped and cotton bled out of the doll as the crow's wing in Roberto's hold tore from the main body. The two lizards watched at the now-separate pieces of the doll in their hold, horrified, just as Marigold started to cry hysterically.

Juarez finished the sentence in bewilderment. "…tear it."

They'd have to fix it later.

* * *

 

**11:00 A.M**

**Feeding Time**

* * *

 

 

Marigold flapped her little wings and pounded unto her high chair in the Dining Hall, demanding to be fed, before she took her whole hand to her mouth.

"What does she eat?" Juarez inquired. He knew little about Marigold's likes and dislikes, since he barely interacted with her; he looked after Medianoche, actually. He knew more about horses than he knew of babies.

"Let me see." Emilio took a peek at the list. While he and Roberto had looked after Marigold the first days of her life, when Xibalba started looking after his daughter himself they gave him his space so that he could bond with her (that and he wouldn't let anyone else touch his baby). Besides, when they took care of her she was a newborn, now she was ten months old. Emilio saw the instructions on the list.

**'Give her apple puree and orange juice for snack time. If she refuses to eat, offer her biscuits as a reward if she eats without making a fuss about it. Just be careful, she tends to play with her food and make a mess.'**

"A good thing Lord Xibalba already has apple puree stocked up." Roberto pointed out, holding a small bowl of apple puree in one hand and a baby cup filled with orange juice in the other. "We just leave it to her so she can eat, or do we hand-feed her?"

"Doesn't say." Juarez replied.

"She's a baby, for goodness sake! I think it's pretty obvious we have to hand-feed her!" Emilio rolled his eyes, taking the bowl from Roberto and taking a spoonful of it, before showing the spoonful to Marigold. "Look, baby, here's some tasty puree!"

However, Marigold moved her head away form the spoon. Emilio tried again, but she turned her head away yet again.

"I think she's not hungry." Juarez commented.

"That can't be, Lord Xibalba feeds her at this hour." Roberto stated.

"That list said we should offer her biscuits if she doesn't want to eat."

"But what kind of biscuits? The list doesn't say which ones she likes."

"Come on! How many kinds of biscuits can we have down here?! It's no the Land of the Remembered!"

"Maybe she'll take any kind of biscuits." Emilio said, trying and failing to get Marigold to eat the spoonful of puree.

"Look, _princesa_ , here's a chocolate biscuit for you!" Juarez waved a biscuit in front of Marigold. Immediately her eyes lit up and she reached out for the biscuit, but Juarez moved it away. "No, no, princesa. If you want a biscuit, you have to eat your puree."

Marigold let out pleading whimpers and a few annoyed grunts, reaching out for the biscuit, flapping her wings anxiously.

"Puree." Roberto took the spoonful form Emilio, then the biscuit from Juarez. "Then we'll give you biscuits."

Thankfully, Marigold understood the message. This time, she gladly opened her mouth and allowed Roberto to give her the spoonful of apple puree. When the squashed fruit started leaking out of her lips, Emilio quickly snatched the spoon from Roberto and tried to bring it back into her mouth, making Marigold giggle in amusement.

"Okay, now swallow it whole."

She gulped the puree and licked her lips; then she reached out for the biscuit. However, as Roberto was about to give it to her, Emilio swatted his hand again, making him drop the biscuit to the ground; Marigold started to cry as she reached down for the now crumbled biscuit.

"Oh, great, you made her cry!" Juarez snapped.

"What was that for?!" Roberto continued with a growl, rubbing his hand.

"You can't give her a biscuit just yet! She has to finish the whole puree!" Emilio stated.

"Well, after what you just did she won't want to eat anymore! Besides, the list didn't say she had to finish the whole puree first before we rewarded her with biscuits!"

"It didn't say to alternate between the puree and the biscuits either!"

Emilio placed the bowl of puree in the high chair, but she cried out and pounded on it, sending the bowl of puree right into Emilio's face. Juarez and Roberto were trying not to burst out laughing, but Marigold had no qualms about it and she started to laugh, clapping her little hands.

"That's what you get for crumbling her cookie, she says!" Roberto finally burst out in laughter at Emilio's unamused and frustrated expression. Finally, Juarez joined into the fit of hysterical laughter, supporting himself unto the table to avoid falling to the ground. Emilio simply wiped the puree off his face with an annoyed look.

"I despise you all."

* * *

 

 

**12:00 P.M**

**Bath Time**

* * *

 

**'Marigold is not fond of baths, so you might find resistance on her part. Use only warm water, and be careful with her wings, they're very sensitive to touch. When you manage to get her into the bathtub you'd better be wearing raincoats, she is going to splash. A lot.'**

"Oh, it's not that bad, is it?" Roberto commented after taking a look at the list.

" _Princesa_ , get back here!"

Juarez and Emilio were too busy trying to catch Marigold; while she still crawled (and she wasn't very fast at it), her godly powers had started to manifest, though they wouldn't be fully developed until she became older (her father's powers finished developing when he turned three hundred years old, while her mother's when she was two hundred fifty years old). For now, however, she just turned into rose petals to escape her pursuers and zoomed to the opposite side of the room. She didn't actually control when she did it, her powers simply acted on instinct. However, Juarez finally managed to catch her in his hands before she could teleport away again.

"Gotcha!" he cried triumphantly, and set Marigold down unto the berry-colored bathtub filled with warm soapy water. However, as soon as he did so, Marigold started to cry, splashing the water with her hands and wings.

"Oh, no!" Emilio barely managed to dodge the splashes of water, but Juarez wasn't so lucky and he was soon soaked to the bone (literally).

"What now?!"

"How about we try to entertain her with something?" Roberto said.

"With what? A rubber duck?" Juarez stated.

"I don't know! Anything!"

Emilio thought quickly, and started making bubbles in the water. "Look, _princesa_! Look at all these pretty bubbles!"

Marigold looked down at the bubbles in the water, and tried to touch one. She giggled when they popped, and tried to make more bubbles by herself, but when the bubble she managed to make popped out of sudden, she started to wail yet again.

"Nonono!" Roberto looked around for anything to entertain the baby, and he found a rubber duck. He quickly placed it in the water. "Like the rubber ducky?"

Marigold stared at it curiously.

"She likes it!" Juarez cried out in relief, before running off to find more toys. Ten seconds later he was back with various types of bath toys, such as boats, sponges, and even an inflatable raft. However, this only made her cry yet again in fright.

"What do we do?!" Emilio cried out in dismay.

Roberto thought quickly, and had another, not so useless idea. He rushed out of the bathroom, and a minute later he was back with an apple pie.

" _Princesa_ , look!" Roberto exclaimed as he smashed the pie into Emilio's face before the latter could do anything about it. Marigold giggled wildly yet again at Emilio's misery.

Emilio wiped the merengue, apple slice and cake bread off his face and glared at Roberto. "What was that for?!"

"Aww, don't be like that, Emilio." Juarez stated. "Look, Marigold is happy."

Emilio looked down at the giggling infant as she clapped her hands and flapped her wings, splashing even more than before. He had to admit, it was quire rewarding to see her happy and giggling. Shrugging, Emilio took what was left of the pie from Roberto and smashed it against his head like a hat.

"Look, _princesa_ , I'm the pie-man!" he chimed, making Marigold laugh further.

* * *

 

 

**1:20 P.M.**

**Nap Time**

* * *

 

Roberto placed Marigold in her crib, and tucked her in carefully. Marigold shifted drowsily, and let out a big yawn.

"So, what does the list say about naptime?"

Juarez read that point in the list.

**'For naptime, give her the pacifier and Rattles, and sing a lullaby for her. That always makes the trick. Just make sure the sides of the crib are secured otherwise when she wakes up she is certainly going to get out of the crib by herself.'**

"That's all?" Roberto inquired. "That's not going to be so hard! And while she naps we might be able to have a little time for ourselves."

Emilio took the pacifier, Rattles and approached the crib. Marigold recognized her stuffed snake and immediately reached out for it. The lizard touched Marigold's lips with the tip of the pacifier, and she immediately latched on it; then he accommodated Rattles next to her, and watched as she snuggled into it, closing her little eyes.

"Guys, I think she's already tired. She's falling asleep on her own accord."

"Looks like it." Juarez said, looking down through the bars of the crib at the drowsing baby. "I think we should let her sleep."

"We can't just leave her alone! We must make sure she has fallen completely asleep! What if she starts to cry?" Emilio retorted.

"We come and soothe her down. Besides, she can't go far from inside there. It'll be fine." Roberto said. "You should stop worrying about everything."

Juarez and Roberto walked towards the door, but Emilio was still hesitant of leaving the baby alone. He stared at Marigold for a while as she suckled on her pacifier and shifted in her sleep, letting out coos and gurgles. Emilio couldn't help but smile a bit; maybe it wouldn't hurt to let her sleep for a few hours, besides, he still had to wash off the leftovers of the apple pie from his face. The lizard tip-toed to the doors of his master's chambers and walked out, not without giving Marigold one last glance to make sure she was alright. Roberto was the last lizard to walk out, and he gently closed the door with his tail.

About half an hour later, Marigold's sleep was disturbed by a ticklish sensation on her nose. Shifting in her sleep and releasing her hold on Rattles, Marigold cracked her eyes open and opened them wide upon finding a funny-looking little critter had landed on her nose. It was a black butterfly, curiously 'licking' Marigold's sugary skin. Wild animals were extremely rare in the Land of the Forgotten unless Xibalba himself bred them for his own use (like Garra, Colmillo and the rest of his hounds), or they suffered a violent death (Medianoche's case). But these butterflies had always been present in this dark realm, though not even Xibalba himself understood how they survived if there were no flowers they could collect pollen from.

Marigold giggled and reached out to catch the butterfly, but she only frightened it and it flew away from her nose, though it continued to circle above her. When the butterfly started to fly away, Marigold rolled unto her belly and crawled towards the bars of the crib, managing to climb over the edge, and she flapped her little wings as she fell unto her buttocks unto the hard floor. Normally she would have cried, but she was on a mission. She crawled after the butterfly, even after it flew out of the room (Roberto had left the door half-open unknowingly), all her thoughts were focused on the butterfly fluttering above her.

* * *

 

 

**5:30 P.M.**

* * *

 

" _PRINCESA_!"

Emilio, Juarez and Roberto were desperately looking for the missing Marigold throughout the castle, under every crevice and rock (figuratively), but she was nowhere to be seen. They could still not believe she actually managed to climb out of her crib by herself.

"Lord Xibalba will have our heads when he finds out we lost his daughter!" Roberto cried out in dismay.

"Roberto, tell me something…" Emilio growled, glancing at the lizard as he looked beneath the table. "Did you close the door of the chambers when you went out?"

"I… Well, I… How was I supposed to know she would climb out of her crib?!" Roberto retorted, mortified.

"We might as well start digging our graves! When Lord Xibalba returns and realizes his only daughter is missing he'll tear us to pieces!"

Roberto gulped. "I don't think he'll be that merciful…"

"GUYS!" Juarez snapped. "Now's really not the moment!"

"Okay, don't panic! Don't panic!" Emilio was trembling in fear. "She couldn't have gone too far! She can't walk…!" a thought crossed his mind. "…Can she?"

"She's only ten months old! Of course she can't walk yet!"

"We're doomed." Roberto cried out. "How far do you think we can get before Lord Xibalba comes back?"

"We're not going anywhere!" Juarez snapped yet again. "We're going to find the baby, and Lord Xibalba will never know!"

"Do you have any ideas of where could she have gone to?!"

"I don't know…!"

The lizards froze when they heard giggling echoing through the halls. It was coming from the Dining Hall; Marigold was there! Immediately they dashed towards the hall, praying to anyone that she would be fine. When they crossed the doors into the dining hall, they saw no signs of the princess. Roberto looked under the table (finding Garra and Colmillo snacking on some turkey they had stolen from the table), Juarez opted to do so between the food on top of it, while Emilio looked around it. Marigold's giggles resounded through the air again; they still couldn't understand where she could be hiding. Just then, Emilio noticed that the giggles were coming from above them; gulping, Emilio lifted his gaze towards the ceiling…

Marigold was crawling on the ceiling, using her little wings, giggling as she chased after the black butterfly.

If Emilio was alive, he would have died of a heart attack.

" _PRINCESA_!"

Roberto and Juarez were startled by the outburst; the former jumped and hit his head with the table, while the latter knocked over a whole turkey from the table. They were about to snap at Emilio for startling them, until they realized what had made him scream.

"Que demonios?! How did she get up there?!" Roberto yelled.

"Forget about that?! How are we going to get her down?!" Emilio retorted, completely terrified.

" _Princesa_ , don't worry!" Juarez called out at her. "We'll save you!"

Marigold was oblivious to the danger she was in, the black butterfly the only thing in her mind, her little wings flapping rapidly, keeping her up there. Her attention was temporally driven from the small butterfly when she heard hustling beneath (or, in her perspective, above) her, and noticed the lizards had piled the chairs over so they could reach the ceiling. At the top of the 'tower' of chairs, Garra was on top of Colmillo, Roberto on top of Colmillo, Juarez on top of Roberto, and Emilio on top of Juarez.

"Here, _princesa_!" Emilio extended out his arms to try and reach for her. Marigold just stared at him curiously, trying to understand what was going on.

"Just don't look down, Emilio!" Roberto stated. "That's the trick! Don't look down!"

Emilio started to sweat nervously upon remembering he was not fond of heights, and gulped the lump in his throat. Finally, the anxiety, stress and terror was too much for him to handle, and looked down; immediately, his stomach flipped and his heartbeat became faster and faster. Marigold watched amusingly as Emilio yelped in horror and lost his balance, in turn causing his two fellow lizards, the two hounds, and the tower of chairs, to lose their balance as well. She giggled and clapped her hands when they all fell to the ground, especially when they all fell on top of the banquet table, completely turning it over and making a disaster of the Dining Hall.

Pies and cakes were sent flying against walls, plates of food clashed against the ground and broke into pieces, spilling their contents unto the ground. The chairs and the food half-cushioned Emilio and the other's fall; they saw stars before everything faded to black. Marigold hiccupped, and she disappeared in a blur of rose petals, which floated down to the floor like the rain of confetti in the Land of the Remembered.

* * *

 

**7:58 P.M.- Present**

* * *

 

"It wasn't so bad, was it, hermanito?" Zipacna laughed once the three gods appeared back in the castle.

"It wasn't so bad?!" Xibalba snapped. "You didn't tell me it was a triple date!"

"You have to admit that nymph was lovely, man!" the Candlemaker stated. "Besides, you practically ruined it with all your worrying."

"How wasn't I supposed to worry?! I don't know if my daughter is okay!"

"Please, Xibalba! She's perfectly fine! I bet they have everything under control." Zipacna stated.

"If you are wrong, I'll have your head."

The Candlemaker felt his stomach growling. "Hey, man, would you mind if I go take a snack from your table? I'm starving!"

Xibalba would have rolled his eyes if he weren't too worried about Marigold; he simply nodded and led the other two gods towards the Dining Hall. As soon as he opened the doors, however, the three nearly had a heart attack at the complete mess before them.

" _Que pasó aquí_?!" the Candlemaker cried out in bewilderment. "It looks like the World War occurred!"

Xibalba grew angry at the sight of his Dining Hall, and clenched his hand around Ponzoña's staff form. Those lizards better have an acceptable explanation for this.

"EMILIO!"

Said Lizard snapped his eyes open when he heard his master's angry voice; he was all covered in merengue and frijol, but he nevertheless jumped to his feet. "M-My Lord!"

Xibalba was not amused by the state he was in. "What are you doing slacking around while my castle falls apart?!"

Just then, Juarez stood up from underneath various plates of tacos and empanadas and realized what was going on, but Roberto was still seeing stars and he did not realize what was going on around him.

" _Chicos_ …? I thought I heard Lord Xibalba's voice…" He felt a chill run down his spine when he felt Xibalba's familiar glare unto him. Roberto scrambled to his feet and joined Emilio and Juarez in cowering under Xibalba's hard eyes.

"Well, M-My Lord… W-We were j-just…" Emilio couldn't even get himself to speak.

Xibalba took notice of something. "Where's Marigold?"

Emilio and the other lizards trembled under their master's questioning, severe glare, fearing that any wrong word might turn them into ash and dust just like the souls that wandered outside. Even Garra and Colmillo sensed the threatening air of their master, and tried to hide behind the lizards. Behind Xibalba, Zipacna and the Candlemaker were staring at the lizards with nervous and anxious eyes. Around them, the dining hall was a complete mess. Plates broken, food stains nearly everywhere, marks of fire and scattered, lone rose petals everywhere. Even the lizards were all stained and dirty with food.

"I asked you three a question." Xibalba narrowed his eyes at his servants, one hand clenching Ponzoña, the other behind his back. "Where's my daughter?"

The three lizards looked at each other with resignation. Emilio gulped, the fins at the sides of his head drooping.

_Dios me ayude._

"She's… Huh…" Emilio couldn't speak.

Juarez couldn't take it anymore and he collapsed at his master's feet, bringing his hands together. "We're so sorry, master!" he ignored Roberto and Emilio's motions for him to stop. "We tried to catch her, but she kept disappearing and now we don't know where she is! Please don't kill us!"

Silence.

Zipacna felt a shiver run down his spine; he felt a dark aura coming from his brother, so dark even the Candlemaker's light seemed to become a bit extinguished by just being in the same room as Xibalba. The Candlemaker gulped and hid behind the caiman-headed god, peeking at his friend. Xibalba, meanwhile, couldn't believe what he just heard; his… daughter… missing. She could as well be hurt, or even dead, all because these three failed to look after her properly. His feathers bristled, his teeth turned into fangs, and his fists clenched in cold anger and anguish. If glares could kill...

"Papa!"

The little voice eased the tension and dark aura coming from Xibalba, and it lifted a great weight off the lizard's shoulders.

"Papa!"

Everyone glanced around the room to see where Marigold's voice was coming from as she called out for her father, until Xibalba caught something wiggling under the stained and dirty tablecloth. Despite having been murderously furious seconds ago, the dark god walked over to the tablecloth, bent down and lifted it with one hand; Marigold was stained with berry pie, but other than that she was apparently perfectly fine. She looked up at her father and crawled towards him with a beaming smile.

"Aww, there you are, _mi florecita_." He chuckled as he bent down and picked her up. "Looks like you've been having fun without me, haven't you?"

Marigold buried her face into her father's neck and cuddled into his embrace, letting out squeals of delight. Xibalba didn't mind her staining his body with berry sauce and merengue, in fact, he took a pinch with his finger and licked it. He couldn't help but smile.

"Berry pie. It's one of my favorites." He glanced down at his daughter. "However did you know, Marigold?"

Marigold giggled happily as she touched her father's cheeks with her merengue-stained hands; Xibalba returned the smile as he took yet another pinch of merengue with his finger, and stained it unto his daughter's nose as 'revenge', making her giggle even further.

The three lizards were staring at the scene agape, not actually believing she had been there the whole time eating berry pie. Zipacna and the Candlemaker were trying their best not to laugh, the former even clutching unto his cloak and ripping a few bits. After a while, Xibalba turned to his servants for an explanation, the humor gone from his face, although inwardly he chuckled at how Marigold was staining his beard with red berry sauce.

"Well, My Lord, what Juarez meant is that…" Emilio gulped.

"We were playing hide-and-seek!" Roberto blurted out. "Yes, that's it! We were playing hide and seek, and that's why we couldn't find her! But things got a little out of control and we started playing food wars!"

"Well, I…" Juarez felt like a complete idiot. "Yes, that's what I meant! We were playing hide-and-seek and food wars!"

"So there's nothing to worry about!" Emilio finished with a nervous, forced grin, but he couldn't stop trembling.

Xibalba said nothing for a while. He glanced around the 'mess' hall, then at his servants, then at his daughter. It was a while before he gave his verdict. "I guess I could pretend this didn't happen this once. All that matters is that Marigold is not hurt."

The lizards let out a collective sigh of relief.

"But…" Xibalba continued. "Someone has to clean up."

Marigold clapped her hands and gurgled when she saw the expressions they had on their faces.

* * *

 

 

**Thanks for reading! See you in the sequel!**


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